


Reap What You Sow

by Venomis



Category: Original Work
Genre: Boyfriends, Bullying, Christianity, Exile, Family Issues, Forgiveness, Friendship, Gay, Homophobia, Jealousy, Love, M/M, Party, Regrets, Romance, Self-Acceptance, Students
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:49:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29805252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venomis/pseuds/Venomis
Summary: Emilio always despised gay people, doing unforgivable things to them when he was in high school. The tables are turned when he falls in love with a boy himself, six years later. However, his former victims are determined to make his life miserable.Grown up in a strict Christian community, Rory lost everyone he cared about when he came out of the closet. Having a thing for homophobic bad boys doesn't exactly help him to find happiness either - until he meets Emilio. However, when the boy's dark past comes to light, Rory's world is about to crumble once again.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

Rory wasn't easily flustered. His heartbeat didn't increase when he was doing an oral test, when he got his driving lessons or when he was on a cliff, ready to bungee jump. 

This night, however, he hadn't been able to sleep at all. Today was his 18th birthday. His six older brothers and sister would come to their parent's house, together with their families, just like the two grandparents that were still alive. It was one of the few moments they were all together, and so Rory had decided to tell it to them today. 

That he was into boys. 

There was only one birthday present he was hoping for — their acceptance. Not something he was counting on, since he was part of a community that was strictly Christian. No one spoke about homosexuality — it was something that didn't exist in the perfect little town of Duinberg. 

There were no gay people living in Duinberg. 

Well — it turned out there were. Rory lived in Duinberg. And there was nobody with whom he could talk about his feelings. 

Two years ago he had fallen in love for the first time, with a boy from school. He had never acted on it, he had always hoped that his feelings would go away. Which, indeed, had happened. However, when he started to develop feelings for someone else, it was again a boy. By now, Rory had no choice but to admit to himself that it was true. 

He was gay. 

He struggled with it for months now, feeling filthy because the Bible spoke out against homosexual acts. But he needed to vent to someone. Although he had always considered himself as a cheerful person, somberness had gotten ahold of him. People had asked him what was going on. Friends. His parents. His sister and brothers. He had never dared to be honest, he had never found the courage to tell them what was bothering him. 

But today he would tell them. Now they were all together. Then he could just get over it and move on with his life. 

* * *

The intention was there — practice was more difficult. It felt like he was in a henhouse; more than thirty people were talking. All of his six brothers and his sister were married, all before they turned twenty as was custom in their community. Rory was much younger than them. Closest in age was his sister, who was still five years older. His oldest brother, Bertus, was fifteen years older. His oldest daughter was only four years younger than Rory himself. 

In the end, the opportunity to tell them the truth was handed to him. Ruben, his youngest brother with which he could get along better than with the others, wrapped an arm around his shoulders. 

"Already eighteen years, kid." He ruffled Rory's blond hair. "It's about time you find yourself a pretty girl. What about Tina? She's beautiful."

Rory thought about Tina. She was as blond as he was — and two heads taller. Her laughter sounded terrible, that was all he could hear when he thought about the girl. He took a deep breath. Immediately, all faces were turned towards him; everyone expected big news. 

Well — it was big news. 

Just not what they hoped to hear. 

Rory cleared his throat. "Well... Actually... There is something I wanted to tell you. About that."

His mother leaned forward on the couch, a smile on her face. It hurt to know that that smile would soon fade. 

Should he really go through with this? Hurt them like that? Or would they realize that this hadn't been his choice either, that he had also asked God to make him straight? After today, would they still love him? 

"Is it Jenna?" His mom asked. "You two would be such an adorable couple!"

An adorable couple. Rory thought about the boys he had been interested in up to now. They hadn't been exactly sweethearts — usually, he fell for the guys with the biggest mouths. Who — even in Duinberg — dared to break the rules. 

"No," he answered softly. "I uh — I think... I think I can't fall in love with girls."

A deadly silence fell. Rory flinched, wishing he could vanish. 

He bent his head, he could no longer stand their dismayed staring. 

"Of course you can," his mother said eventually. "You're just a late bloomer, Rory. You'll find love. You're only eighteen! Some day, a nice girl will cross your path, who will make your heart beat faster."

Rory bit his cheek. He could leave it at this. Yet, he knew he would soon wish that he had told them the truth today. 

"There have been people who made my heart beat faster," he said quietly. "A few times, actually. But — but they are always boys."

Silence. A very deep silence. It even felt like no one dared to breathe. 

Rory swallowed, wringing his hands. Cautiously he lifted his head and peeked around the room. His mother pressed a hand against her chest as if she was having a heart attack. The others just stared at him as if he was a creature from outer space. 

"Impossible," his father said firmly. "Don't say such foolish things, Rory. You know that's against nature."

Against nature or not — Rory couldn't do much about his feelings. If it was up to him, they would have disappeared a long time ago. He said nothing, he simply didn't know what to say. He didn't have the answers either. All he had, were doubts and questions. 

"It's just a phase," Bertus spoke. "I see it more and more at the school I'm working at. These days, the youth wastes too much time labeling their gender and sexuality. This will pass. It's just a trend. People feel the need to be different."

It was _not_ a trend. Rory couldn't think of anyone else struggling with this. "I don't _want_ to be different," Rory answered annoyed. "I'm barely 5'2. Much smaller than all the other boys. I already stand out." He took a deep breath. "I'm struggling with this for over two years and it was very hard to tell you this. This isn't just a phase. It's —"

"A disease," his father snapped. "There is an unclean spirit inside you who makes you ill."

It felt like his father kicked him in the stomach. He bent over. In vain, he hoped that someone would contradict his words, but they didn't. 

"Calm down, Dad," Ruben spoke in a reconcile tone. "There are conversion therapies for this."

Rory had read about them. Therapies where they gave their patients electric shocks while they were looking at homoerotic images. Something he had already tried himself by looking up these images online and hurting himself.

It hadn't been effective. It was no behavior that could be punished; this was part of who he was. 

"I don't want that," he said quietly. "There is no proof it works."

"Then you will go to a healing ministry," his father said determinedly. 

Rory had been praying for a different mindset for years. It hadn't changed his feelings. He lacked faith in such a thing, but he was prepared to give it a chance. For his family. 

"Yeah," he muttered. "I can do that."

There was no relief filling the room. Apparently, the others hadn't much faith in a healing ministry either. 

Suddenly his mother started to sob. "How is this possible, Rory? You were always such a sweet boy... Where are those disgusting longings coming from? What did we do to deserve this? Imagine what people think of us when they find out we raised a homosexual!"

Rory bent his head. He didn't want to cause his family any trouble, he never wanted any of this. This had never been his decision! He also wanted his feelings to go away — he wanted it for years! But they didn't go away. They simply didn't go away. 

A tear itched down his cheek. "I'm sorry mama," he whispered. 

His mother only started to cry harder. 

And while all his brothers and his sister were trying to comfort mother, there was no one who wrapped an arm around Rory's shoulders. As if he was unworthy of their comfort. 

Unworthy of their love.


	2. Chapter 2

Rory felt his cheeks glow as he entered the church. The conversation stalled, although people bent towards each other to whisper. He bit his lip. He was imagining things, right? They couldn't all know about his secret. Not yet. Quickly he headed to the stairs leading to the balcony. The place where the church youth used to sit. 

Two days had passed since he turned 18. Ever since he felt like a stranger in his own home. He knew his mother found it hard to be in the same room with him and she had started to cry a few times now. He had laid a hand on her shoulder, telling her how sorry he was and how he wished things would have been different. She hadn't answered. She had only given him that heart-broken look. 

It felt like he was carrying stones on his back. Every time he looked in someone's eyes, the weight increased. With his eyes he searched for Jonathan, his best friend. He was in the third row, his hand on Grace's knee. 

Rory sat down next to him. "Hey," he said softly, his voice shaking. 

Jonathan studied his face. The look in his eyes chased a shiver down Rory's spine. 

"Is it true?" his friend asked. 

Nervously, Rory intertwined his fingers. He bent his head, his shoulders slumping down. He didn't dare to answer. After his family's rejection, he had hoped that Jonathan would have his back. However, now he felt a distance between them that had never been there before. Out of the blue, while they hadn't even spoken to each other. 

"How did you know?" Rory asked quietly. 

Jonathan shrugged his shoulders. "Everyone talks about it."

Rory took a deep breath. "Nobody talks to me, but they all talk _about_ me," he said bitterly. 

"But what's there to say to you, Rory? That God doesn't approve of it? You already know that, right?"

Rory flinched. In vain, he tried to blink the tears away. When he failed to do so, he got up and wormed his way through the pews towards the stairs. The organ playing started, drowning out the cracking of the stairs as Rory descended it. 

Tears were already rolling down his cheeks as he entered the hallway where the coats were hanging. He didn't feel welcome anymore. If everyone was disgusted with him, God would be disgusted with him too. He didn't want to incur the wrath of God. 

Wiping the tears from his cheeks, he headed outside. It drizzled. Part of him hoped Jonathan or one of his other friends would follow him, but he was all alone. Nobody cared about his feelings. 

Leaning with his hands on the ledge, he stared down in the grey ditch. The raindrops left small circles in the water. Would they hate him forever now? It felt like there was a monster inside him that was slowly eating him from the inside. It ached, it hurt, and he didn't know how to get rid of it. 

Would it be better if he was dead? Maybe he didn't deserve to live. All he did, was hurting the people he loved. Again and again he saw his mother's tear-stained face, and his father's aversion seemed to follow him wherever he went. All of a sudden he was no longer their son, but a... He couldn't even think of the proper word. He felt like garbage. 

Again, the tears streamed down his face. His shoulders were shaking as his fingers curled around the wood of the bridge. It started to rain harder. Was it true? Would they rather live on without him? Would they rather forget about his existence, would they rather remove him from their family? Brushing off the stain of their family tree? 

Suddenly a hand landed on his shoulder. He looked aside. Because of the tears he couldn't see who it was. Before he had blinked away his tears, the other wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. Rory clung to the stranger. He had craved so much for two arms to hold him that his whole body was quivering. Soothingly, a hand rubbed his back. Rory closed his eyes. 

"Come, boy," a man's voice said after a while. "You'll get sick if you stay here. I live nearby. Let me get you a cup of tea, then you can tell me what makes you so sad."

Rory stepped back, wiping the tears from his eyes. A friendly face of an elderly man looked calmly at him. It was Mr. Somers. Grace's grandpa. The minister's son-in-law. For a man in his 70's he looked pretty vital, his hand felt firm on Rory's shoulder. 

He nodded quietly. 

* * *

Rory gave Mr. Somers a small smile when he took the cup of tea from him. He folded his hands around the steaming cup, he felt ice cold. 

A bit awkwardly Rory looked around, to the family photos at the wall. It wasn't a large family, it looked like Mr. and Mrs. Somers had only two children. Grace was an only's child, even though she was very young on the picture, probably around 8. The other couple had three children of approximately the same age. Rory doubted he had ever seen Mr. Somers wife, he assumed she'd died a long time ago. 

He turned his head aside, realizing that this man was skipping church because of him. "Aren't you afraid to disappoint God now you miss out on the divine service?" he asked quietly. 

The man shook his head, determined. "Jesus would have come to you too, even if He had to disrupt his own sermon for it."

Rory stared at his knees. "I doubt that," he said quietly. "I bet he's disgusted with me."

"Why would you think that?" the man answered calmly. 

Rory bit his lip. Those awful tears returned immediately. "Because... I — I'm gay."

"God loves both gay and straight people, Rory. Jesus came to this world to save all people, not just straight people. He loves us all."

He failed to look up. "Father says I'm sick. That there's an evil spirit inside me."

"I don't believe that. There are plenty of boys and girls like you. There are even a lot of animals showing homosexual behavior. It's a taboo within our community, most people have no idea what they're talking about. They blindly cite paragraphs of the Holy Scripture without studying the context."

This time, Rory did turn his head to the side. "How come you know so much about this?"

"My brother was a homosexual. We've read all the literature we could find about the subject."

"But he's not a homosexual anymore?" Rory asked hesitantly since the man had spoken in the past tense. 

"He died six years ago."

"Oh." Rory's cheeks flushed, he had forgotten about the man's age. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Mr. Somers winked at him. 

Rory bit the inside of his cheek. "You don't think I'm a sinner?"

"We're all sinners. Your orientation doesn't make you a bigger sinner than anyone else. Moreover, it is important to realize that only homosexual acts are judged; not the people struggling with such feelings."

It felt like the weight was falling from his shoulders. "But it means I can never be in a relationship, right?" he asked quietly. 

"I can't decide that for you. Some people indeed chose to be alone. Some do commit to a relationship but refrain from sexual activity, and some love each other like a woman and a man love each other, believing God blesses their relationship too as long as they are faithful and love each other. My brother met a man with which he shared a large part of his life. Not everyone agreed with his choice and not everyone accepted it, but it's something between you, your possible partner, and God. It's nobody else's business. Even if they state it is."

Rory thought about his words. It was so different from what everyone had told him up to now. It confused him, although he did feel a little flame in his chest at the thought that he wasn't condemned to live a lonely life. 

"It's important to talk to God, to tell him what's troubling you. Pray that he will teach you how to deal with this, and that God will teach others how to deal with it. I believe He will guide you if you ask Him to guide you. Maybe He will bring a nice boy in your sight, maybe He won't. But also then, He wants to stay close to you and take your loneliness away."

Rory took a sip of his tea, which had cooled down. 

"I could talk to your parents, would you like that?" Mr. Somers offered. 

Rory was a little overwhelmed by the help the elderly man offered. His parents were very fierce when it came to their opinion, but something told him that this man wouldn't shy away from a conversation, no matter his age. 

"I'm not sure they will listen," Rory muttered. "My mom can only cry."

"Your mother needs time to make peace with it. It's not her fault that there is so little openness on this subject in our community. We are all to blame for that." Mr. Somers laid a hand on his shoulder. "I think you were very brave for telling your parents about your feelings, Rory. Know that you're not the only one who is struggling with this. Statistically, at least 5 percent of the population is not straight. That means that there are at least ten other churchgoers who struggle with the same feelings, but who haven't found the courage to come out yet."

Ten others... Rory couldn't imagine. Had they always hidden it from everyone? 

"I want you to remember one thing very well, Rory," the man spoke again. "Your orientation is not a sin. The love you might feel for a boy is neither a sin. The lack of love and tolerance the others have shown you _is_ a sin. It's not up to us to judge other people and I am sorry that the people you thought you could trust couldn't support you in the way you probably hoped for."

Rory swallowed. Tears burnt in his eyes. Oh, how he wished that his father or his mother, or one of his brothers or even Jonathan had spoken these words...

"You think it will help?" he whispered. "If you talk to my parents?"

"I hope it will, but I'll have to admit that I've been disappointed by mankind before." The old man squeezed his shoulder. "But it's worth trying, isn't it?"

After a brief moment of hesitation, Rory nodded. Yeah — it wasn't like he had a lot left to lose. And Mr. Somers was so calm and loving, his parents had to feel that too, right? Would he be able to change their minds? 

Rory didn't dare to allow the hope completely. Nevertheless, he tried to trust in a good outcome. 


	3. Chapter 3

When Rory entered his house, together with Mr. Somers, he was as nervous as the moment he told his family that he liked boys. 

Things had gone terribly wrong then. 

This felt like the last chance to make things right. Maybe it had just been a lot to process, or maybe he should have been clearer. Maybe he should have stressed that he wished he would fall in love with girls too, and that his feelings wouldn't necessarily lead to a relationship with a boy. 

The only thing he had wanted at that moment, was a hug from his father or mother, or from his brothers or sister. A caress through his hair, an encouraging word telling him they understood how hard this was for him, but that they still loved him nonetheless and wanted to help him. 

Maybe they just had to recover from the shock. Soon, Mr. Somers would assure them that things weren't that bad, that there were many Christian families which were dealing with this problem, and together they would find a way to live with this. 

Lying his hand on the doorknob, he took a deep breath. His stomach cramped up. A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, giving him an encouraging squeeze. 

"You're not alone, Rory."

Rory's lip was trembling. Never it had occurred to him that this man who he barely knew would be such great support. "Thank you for coming with me, sir," he said quietly. 

The old man offered him a friendly smile. "No one should bear this burden alone. Open the door, boy."

Rory pushed the door open and stepped inside. His parents were sitting on the couch, both sitting straight. Again he was met by disappointed glances, by a hurtful silence. 

"Why did you leave the church, Rory?" his father's voice sounded. He didn't even acknowledge Mr. Somers' presence. 

Rory dropped his eyes. He didn't know what to answer. That he felt too sinful to stay inside the house of God? That Jonathan had looked _mad_ because he came out of the closet? 

"I don't know," he said softly. "I didn't feel welcome anymore."

His mother covered her mouth with her hand as if he'd said something terrible. 

"That is the darkness inside you, boy," his father spoke. "As long as you allow these sinful longings, that darkness will only grow. I talked to Jan Berendsen. He can take you to a healing ministry."

His parents never liked healing ministries, they had always described its visitors as attention-seeking people. 

"Your son isn't sick," Mr. Somers spoke, laying a hand on his shoulder again. "His orientation just differs from that of most people."

"You can't really believe this nonsense, right?" his father huffed. "This is the devil's work."

Rory flinched. A tear itched down his cheek and brusquely he wiped it away. "I asked God to take these feelings away," he said, his voice shaking. More than anything he wanted to retreat to a corner of the house and disappear, but a part of him was resisting. "But He didn't take them away. At least not yet. But Dad — it's not that I can control the way I feel about people..."

Father heaved a deep sigh. "You have to learn to reject those thoughts, Rory. They will leave eventually. This is just a temptation you have to resist. You're giving in way too quickly."

"Too quickly?!" he called out. Suddenly he could no longer push back his frustration. "It took me _two years_ to confess this! While I'm questioning my orientation much longer. And..."

"Stop using that word, Rory. Orientation. There is no such thing as an orientation. Man and woman were created for each other, it's simple as that."

"It's not!" he yelled. "It's not simple at all! You think I would have struggled so much if it was simple?!"

"It's the media which fills your head with lies."

Mister Somers squeezed his shoulders. "Why don't you go to your room, Rory? Then I will have a talk with your parents."

Rory's whole body was shaking. He didn't know what emotion was stronger, the anger or the sadness. In the end, he turned around and rushed out of the room. The past two days he had pushed his feelings as far away as he could, but now he lost control. 

In his room, he sat down on his bed. He took a few deep breaths. _Don't cry. Don't cry **again**. _It wasn't like his tears were of any use, they wouldn't solve the problem magically. Instead of letting his emotion drag him along, he folded his hands and closed his teary eyes while he silently started to pray, begging that Mr. Somers would find a way into his parent's hearts. 

Nervously he kept waiting on the bed. Far away he heard voices — voices which were becoming harder and harder. A shiver crept down his spine as he realized someone was shouting. 

_My fault. It's my fault._

Rory descended the stairs. 

If Mr. Somers couldn't get through to his parents, would it mean that the man was wrong? Was he indeed so sinful that even God despised him? His stomach churned as he walked closer to the door. Suddenly his feet felt heavy as lead.

"Keep your lies outside these walls!" the voice of his father thundered. "Our Lord will never approve a relationship between two men, the Bible is very clear about it! Longing for a sin is as sinful as sinning itself — and encouraging someone to sin is even worse!"

"With all due respect, but you can't thoughtlessly apply the cultural practices of the Bible to our society. We have also stopped arranging marriages for our children, we don't let our underage daughters marry their rapists and it is neither common to marry your sister-in-law when her husband dies. Why would you discard these rules, but not the others?" The voice of Mr. Somers sounded calm but stern. "Your son is confused, he is sad, he believed he's only a second-rate human being. You should support him, offer him an ear that is willing to listen."

"Don't tell me how to raise my child!" his father barked. "The thought that he would like to touch a boy makes me sick! It won't happen, not in this house! He will take back his words and tell everyone he was wrong, if not he is no longer welcome. He dishonors our family!"

"You are the one dishonoring your family, sir. You created some kind of mold your child is supposed to fit into, and you want to cut off all the characteristics you don't like. That's not how it works. Rory is your son and you owe him your unconditional love, like Jesus taught us to love. Not only the things you like but the whole package."

"Enough! I've heard enough! Poison flows out of your mouth."

"It's not the poison from my mouth that caused your boy to stand at the bridge earlier today, all alone and crying." 

A deadly silence fell. 

Very quietly, Rory opened the door. His cheeks were wet, he couldn't remember when he had started to cry again. 

His parents stared at him, the face of his father as red as his mother's eyes. Rory wrapped his arms around himself, he didn't know what to say. 

"You really want me to leave?" he asked quietly. 

His mother bent her head and stared at her knees. 

"No, my boy. But you do understand you passed judgment on yourself and our family by those absurd statements, right?"

Absurd statements? 

He thought about all the hours of doubt that had preceded his confession. It wasn't just some figment of his imagination; it was something real, something that made him who he was. A person he wasn't allowed to be. 

"You can't give in, Rory," his mother said quietly. "You have to tell the world you were wrong."

Rory bent his head. That meant that he had to hide. But was that really so bad, if it meant that his parents would be smiling at him again? 

"But then I would lie," he answered softly. _And one must not lie._

"There is no point in this, Martha." His father wrapped an arm around his wife's shoulders. The arm Rory longed for. "He chooses his own pleasures over his family." He looked up. "I don't know what happened to you, Rory, I don't understand how it could have gone so wrong. This however isn't behavior we can approve of. If you want to chase your evil desires, it's something between you and God — but we are responsible for you as long as you live in our house. So you will take back your words and forget about your feelings, or you will leave and acknowledge your own responsibilities."

"Leave?" he repeated in a small voice. "Where will I go? I'm only 18."

Father shrugged his shoulders. "Then you know what to do."

"No," Mr. Somers said all of a sudden. "I think you all need some time to think about the situation. Hiding your feelings is not a solution, not for Rory and not for you. Rory can stay at my house for a while, at least until he graduates."

Confused, Rory looked at the man. He was really grateful for his help — but did he really want to live with the man? Although he might not have a choice... Or would one of his brothers be gentler than their parents? 

He didn't even dare to ask them, too afraid to be rejected again. 

"Okay," he said quietly. "Then I will grab my stuff."

His parents were silent as the grave. 


	4. Chapter 4

_Eighteen months later_

Emilio cursed as he looked down the window and saw all his belongings scattered across the street. His clothes were spread across the pavement; a man and his dog walking over it and looking up in surprise. Emilio flipped him the finger before he returned his gaze to his stuff. His laptop was among it, undoubtedly broken, his DVD's and games — it looked like she'd held a fucking box upside down. How the fuck had he been able to sleep through this? He must have been in a fucking coma. He rubbed his face. His head was pounding; he had a hell of a hangover. He didn't remember much of last night. He walked over to the closet, which turned out to be empty. Of course it was; the contents were on the street. This was just fucking great. Well — then he would go downstairs naked. 

The stairs were cracking as he descended them, his head threatening to burst with every step he took. First to the fridge. Taking a beer from it, he took a few sips. 

"Seriously?!" Amanda yelled. "You come down bare-assed just to drink beer? What the fuck is wrong with you, asshole? Get the fuck out of my house!"

She was crying. 

He squeezed his eyes; her shrill voice was torture, and finished his drink. 

"What the fuck is goin' on? Why is all my stuff outside?"

"Because you ignored me this morning! I found a thong that wasn't mine in the room, confronted you with it and all you said was that I was being dramatic!"

Emilio shrugged his shoulders. He couldn't remember he had said _anything_ to her this morning, but he assumed she wasn't making things up. 

"How long is this going on, Emilio? How long are you cheating on me? During all my night shifts?"

"Sorry," he said. Usually admitting that he had treated her wrong was the easiest. 

"Sorry?!" she yelled. "You think I care about your sorry? It's over, Emilio! Get out of my house, I never wanna see your shitty face again!"

Sighing, he rubbed his brow. That damned headache. "You don't have to yell," he mumbled. "I'm not deaf. Let me grab some breakfast, then I'll go."

"No! You leave _now_!" She grabbed his arm, yanking it. She however was small and he shoved her aside, whereafter he laid some slices of bread on a plate and opened the fridge to see if there were eggs and bacon. 

"Calm down, Amanda. I'll be gone in a few minutes, stop being such a drama queen. Those ten minutes won't kill you." He turned towards her. "And bring back my clothes. Unless you want to enjoy the view a little longer." He moved his eyebrows up and down. 

She gave him a death stare, turned around and rushed upstairs. 

"Okay, I guess we won't have make-up sex this time." He put the frying pan on the stove and beat the eggs into it. 

After finishing breakfast he headed to the front door to grab his clothes before some dumb ass would steal them. He ignored the people that were staring at him; for most of them, this view was going to be the best thing they would see this month. He didn't plan to come back anyway. 

Where he _would_ go, he didn't know all too well. His main reason to move in with Amanda had been because his parents had kicked him out and he hadn't been too eager to sleep under a bridge. This thing with Amanda had been nothing but a row of one-night stands, and he couldn't care less that it was over now. 

He however _did_ need a place to sleep. And actually, he could think of only one person he could always go to. 

* * *

"Fucker," Emilio grumbled when Juan wasn't picking up his phone. Putting the device away, he looked up to the housing complex. Although he had been here before, he had no idea which apartment was his. He lifted his bag a little higher on his shoulder. In it were his only belongings. He looked like a fucking hobo. Luckily he still had his Harley; at least he possessed _something_ of value. 

Stroking his finger across all the doorbells he decided to ring all of them — surely _someone_ would let him in. 

It felt like he had been waiting for a century when there was a click; finally, that fucking door opened. Emilio walked through the hallway until he reached Juan's apartment. Impatiently he slammed his fist against the door, once again waiting until someone would let him in. 

It was a skinny girl who opened the door. 

Emilio frowned. "Who the hell are you?" He looked past the redhead into the living room. He did recognize the other two girls; one was the definition of a nerd and the other was simply weird. "Where's Juan?"

"I — I'm Kate," she said quietly. "I'm new. Juan — Juan is showering."

For a brief moment, he calmed down because Juan hadn't bluntly ignored him; then he realized she had just moved in. Why the hell hadn't his friend mentioned a vacant room? Then he wouldn't have been forced to pick up his things from the streets. 

"I'll wait," he muttered, walking to the kitchen, opening the fridge and opening a can of beer. 

"No," Juan's purple-haired roommate objected. "Those are for the party! Or will you come to the party too?" She gave him a questioning look. "It's a welcome party for all our new residents."

Emilio took a swing. "Sure."

Every party would be better than this deadly place. 

He was halfway his beer when the bathroom door opened and Juan stepped out of it, cleanly shaved. "So, you girls ready to go?" he asked as he entered the living room. 

"Dude — your showers take so fucking long I thought you were doin' Dana," Emilio said before one of the girls could answer him. 

Juan frowned. "What are you doing here?"

Emilio walked past the others, slammed his shoulder and pulled him in a hug. "Amanda kicked me out. So I thought — if you sleep with Dane, I can stay in your room." Slipping past him, he opened the door to his bedroom and dropped his bag in it.

"Well thank you for at least waiting until I'm finished showering before you claim my room," he answered, rolling his eyes 

"You're welcome." He leaned against the door frame. "But if it's a problem I don't mind crawling in your girlfriend's bed. Would love to spoon her. She sleeps naked?"

"Why did Amanda break up with you?"

Emilio shrugged his shoulders. "Apparently she was living a fantasy in which I was monogamous. Hey — I heard there's a party. Do we go? Those roommates of yours are more boring than dead people. You should have invited me to be your roomie man. Just a little longer and you turn into a girl yourself, with all those bitches around you. And they're not even hot."

"Without a job or a study you had no priority."

"I'm your best friend. Of course I have priority."

"It's not my call."

"Oh come on, just give that old skinflint a good one and she'll do everything for you."

"I'll give you a week to find a job," Juan answered. "If you are nice to my roommates."

Emilio smirked. "Oh, I bet they'll love to have a single guy in their apartment."

* * *

The party was boring as fuck. He might not be a student himself, but he always thought their parties would be wilder. The chicks around here however barely dared to talk, their glances glued to their feet as he tried to get a conversation going. 

Among themselves they did talk quietly, but about nothing interesting. Their studies, their dreams of the future... Things he had nothing to say about. He didn't have a job, he didn't have any dreams; everything he did felt volatile and meaningless. 

Having a smoke — that was the only longing he felt right now. He left the 'party area' and went to the roof terrace where he sat down on the edge of the roof and stared into the distance. 

Emilio looked aside when someone sat down next to him a little later. He wasn't in the mood to waste his time on more boring people; was he supposed to write it on the back of his head? 

"Hey."

It was a guy with a ring in his lip, tattooed arms and half of his hair was shaven. Muttering a greeting, he took the beer that was offered to him. Could have been worse. 

"You're part of the welcoming committee?" he huffed when the other refused to leave. "I don't live here, so you can pass me over."

"I don't live here either."

A little surprised he looked aside. 

"I helped my little sister to move to this place and decided to grab a beer. Free drinks, huh?"

Now he looked at the other, he started to wonder if it was really a guy. It was a manly haircut and he wasn't wearing make-up, but the features of his face were soft. His glance wandered down. The wide band shirt didn't give away much, nor did his wide skater trousers. 

"You're a dude or a chick?" he asked. 

"Why do you care? You want a fuck?"

Okay... Not the response he had counted on. It didn't happen much that he didn't know what to say himself. Did that mean she _was_ a girl?

"Depends on it. You got a cunt?"

The other smirked. The ring in his/her lip ticked against the glass as a sip was taken. With the movement the sleeve glided down, showing the muscular arms. Well this _had to be_ a guy, right? 

"You wanna feel?" it mocked. 

Emilio had just taken a drink and the words made him choke. Coughing, he bent over. The chuckling sounds next to him were so annoying he wanted to lash out. "You're a fucking faggot?"

"Well, I _do_ like dicks."

Okay, that was enough. That fag gave him the creeps. "Whatever. I'm out." He wanted to get up. 

The other started to laugh. "You're such a wuss. Trying to lure me out while you're so easy to rattle yourself." He pulled his cigarette out of his pocket and handed him the box. "I don't give a fuck about that gender shit, and although my tits are tinier than these of some men I've seen, I don't have a cock. Call me whatever you want, I don't give a fuck."

Emilio didn't know what the reason was that he was still sitting here, the cigarettes or the fact that she turned out to be a girl. He felt awkward because she had indeed rattled him so easily, and with a grim face he pulled a cigarette from the box and lit it. 

"I'm Alex. What about you, Mr. Sunshine? You got a name?"

He hesitated, although he didn't know why. "Emilio," he said eventually. 

"Okay."

A silence fell while they were both smoking. From the corner of his eyes, he looked aside. She was way too manly to make him want to hit on her, but there was something intriguing in the relaxed way she was sitting next to him. He looked at her tattoo sleeves. Hers were in grey tones, while his were of a dark green and blue. He saw skulls, playing cards, snakes, a license plate... He was actually curious to see if the rest of her body was covered in ink too. 

Her — for a woman — low voice dragged him out of his thoughts. "What are you doin' here if you don't live here?"

He blew out a cloud of smoke. He wasn't in the mood to share some sad story. "A friend of mine lives here. I'm crashin' at his place for a while."

She nodded slowly. "You're moving and waiting for your new home or something?"

"Something like that." He decided to lie. "I lived in an anti-squad house and was kicked out. I hope to find something around here." He stared into the distance. "But I gotta find a job first." Hesitating, he added: "You know of a place where they could use a hand?"

"Hmm. What kind of job are you lookin' for?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "It's not like I have a degree in something," he muttered. He hadn't even finished high school, but he didn't want to look like a moron. "Did a car mechanic training for a while, but one can't do much with only half of the training. I dunno, maybe logistics?"

She bit the ring in her lip while she studied his face. He felt a bit uncomfortable under her gaze; it felt like she was looking for something and he had no idea for what.

"Why did you quit?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Got into it with my supervisor."

Again, her glance moved across his face. "It's too late to sign up for a study, but you can gain some experience in our garage if you like?"

He stared at her, his mouth almost dropping. That offer was really, really unexpected. Was she doing the administration or was she a mechanic herself? He had never seen a female mechanic. But damn... How much better would it be than stocking shelves?

"You know someone who might be willing to train me?" he asked, hesitating. 

"Me."

So she _was_ a mechanic. He snorted. "Nobody will ever take me seriously if I'm trained by a bitch."

"You don't have to write down my gender on your resume."

"You ever trained someone before?"

"Nope. You can be my lab rat."

Of course — no self-respecting guy would allow a bitch to train him. "Find someone else," he huffed. "You're not gonna be my boss — no fucking way. How desperate do you think I am."

Shrugging her shoulders, she got up. "Desperate enough to believe that only men can fix cars. But let's face the facts, boy. I got a job and a house, you got nothing." She dropped her cigarette and stepped on it. 

Then she turned around and walked away. 

Emilio gritted his teeth. His mood only became worse. 


	5. Chapter 5

Emilio would absolutely describe himself as lazy. He rather left household chores to someone else, especially since he considered himself as a guest in Juan's apartment. Although it might not have been much different if he had been the one living here. That however didn't change the fact that he was easily bored. Three episodes of Peaky Blinders managed to keep his attention, during the fourth he got bored. He however neither knew what else to do. Going into town, looking for a job? Juan had told him to kick him out if he didn't find a job within a week, but he doubted it was something he would really do. That was not him. He however was neither in the mood to fight, and for some reason, he didn't want to disappoint his friend. Maybe he could find something on the internet. 

His laptop however was broken since that bitch had thrown it out of the window. He should go to her and demand a new one, but it was a one-hour drive and he didn't look forward to wasting more time on her. Maybe the thing could be fixed; there had to be some tech guy around in a university town like this. If he looked around to see if there were any job advertisements stuck to the window on his way to the repair service, he could at least tell Juan that he had looked around. At least he would have done something useful today. 

Picking up his bag, he put the laptop in it and closed the door behind him. Using his phone he searched for the nearest computer repairman, then he started to walk towards the old town. Now everyone had received their new timetables, there were indeed some advertisements here and there; at least a shoe shop and a snack bar were looking for extra manpower. Neither of them sounded very compelling. Once again he thought back to Alex's offer. Should he do it anyway? He doubted she would give him a second chance, and he hated nothing more than crawling back to someone and apologize. But giving up a bit of his pride to do what he liked, was better than hovering over a frying pan all day long. 

He however had no idea at what garage she was working at. Maybe Juan could figure out who Alex's little sister was, she could undoubtedly tell him the address. That was at least some kind of plan. That was enough for today. 

"Did you look around for a job?" Juan asked later that day. 

"I dropped my laptop at some dork to fix it." 

"That's no answer to my question."

"Fuck — sometimes you really sound like my mom."

"Well someone has to."

"I came across nothing interesting," he replied, reaching over the table to drink from his beer. "I did look around, y'know. They were lookin' for personnel at a snack bar. And a shoe shop."

Juan smirked. "At least you'll see a lot of chicks at a shoe shop."

Emilio snorted. "Only faggots work at a shoe shop. Anyway, think I'ma talk to that Alex again."

Surprised, Juan raised his eyebrows. Emilio understood. After all, he wasn't someone who easily took back his words and he certainly never told someone else when he did so. Nevertheless, Emilio believed this was his best chance. 

"Okay. Sounds like a plan."

"Yeah." A silence fell. "Gotta figure out where she works tho. She told me her lil sister lives somewhere in this building."

"Yeah, Jip. She lives at number 3." A smile crossed Juan's lips. "I already asked around a bit, in case you would change your mind."

"Oh, chill. I'll ask her soon."

"You could ask her now. That way, I won't need to remind you to go to her a hundred times."

Emilio hesitated. 

"What?" Juan huffed. "You want me to hold your hand?"

Emilio cast him a dark glance which only made his friend chuckle, then he got up from the couch and left the room. 

In silence, Emilio cursed Juan for being such an ass. A little harder than might be normal, he slammed his fist against the wood of number three while he waited until someone opened the door. It was a pretty redhead who showed her face. 

"Hi!" she said. 

"Damn." Emilio whistled while he gave the girl a once-over. "They didn't tell me Miss Universe was livin' here too."

"Ehm... I don't think she is!" 

"Well — you're just as beautiful." He gave her a wink, leaning with his shoulder against the door while he looked inside. Nobody else seemed to be around. To be sure, he said: "I'm lookin' for Jip."

"That's me!" She stared at him with wide eyes full of surprise. 

Wow. He couldn't think of a bigger contrast between this simple-minded girl and her manly sister. 

"I have an appointment with your sister. At the garage where she works, but I forgot to ask her what garage that is." He smiled a bit sheepishly. 

"Garage Groen," she told him. "Daddy is the owner."

"Okay, awesome." He hesitated. He knew what he'd wanted to know, but there was something about her he liked. Something very innocent. "What were you doin'?"

"Drawing," Jip said. "On my iPad."

"Oh. So what kind of things do you draw? Can I see it?"

Jip nodded. She let him in and picked up a large iPad Pro, showing him a drawing of a puppy. 

It wasn't like he was very interested in her drawings — she didn't strike him as the type of girl liking to draw naked chicks — but he didn't think he would make a lot of friends when he said that out loud. 

"You're really talented," he said without lying. "You draw only animals?"

"And people! Their poses can be so different, and their expressions, activities..." She looked at him. "What do you like to do when you're alone?"

"Taking a ride with my bike. Watchin' por— eh, movies... shit like that."

Slipping his hands in his pockets, he wondered when had been the last time someone had asked him that question. He couldn't remember. His contacts with girls were usually only about one thing. 

"What kind of movies do you like?"

Emilio didn't consider himself as someone with a shitload of people skills, but he had this feeling this girl wouldn't watch hardcore porn and he didn't want to scare her. "Romantic movies," he said instead. And well — there was _that_ much difference between both genres. In the end, every character wanted the same. "Nothing as beautiful as awakening love."

Jip's eyes widened. "Really? Those are my favorite movies too! What one is your favorite?"

Well — that was a hell of a question. "I'm not that good at remembering titles," he answered before he would come up with some random title which she might actually know. "What about you?"

"My favorite movie is Love Actually," she said enthusiastically. "For that are many romantic stories in one movie!"

Emilio was inclined to take a step closer, but something kept him from doing so. He however did keep her glance. "I never saw that one." He paused. "We can watch it together some time if you like? I mean — usually, I watch movies alone, but I'd like to know some more people around here."

Yeah — it was fucking obvious what he was trying, but maybe she'd fall for it. 

"Oh yes, we could do that! I neither know a lot of people around here. By the way, what is your name?"

Emilio bit back a smirk when her cheeks started to flush. "Emilio."

"Okay! So, when do you want to watch the movie?"

"You tell me. My life isn't that exciting."

"Friday night?" she suggested. 

"Yeah sure. You want me to come here?" he asked, assuming she would feel more comfortable in her own room. 

"Okay! I will ask my roommates if they mind if I claim the television that night."

Oh — that was not what he had in mind. He didn't plan on sitting in the living room. He leaned into her, whispering: "Actually, I hoped you and I would be alone." He gave her a meaningful look. "Doesn't that sound more romantic?"

"Oh!" Jip covered her mouth with her hand and started to giggle. "Yes, that sounds more romantic! So... is this a date?" she whispered. 

"Eh — if you want it to be a date? I've never had a date. I can't promise you I won't become shy."

"You can promise it, but you're not sure if you can keep your promise," Jip nodded. "I never had a date either! But I like to call this a date!"

Emilio wondered if he could convince her that kissing was part of a first date, Friday. Had she ever kissed at all? "Okay, sounds good. See you Friday!"

* * *

Two days ago, Emilio had stand in front of garage Groen as well. 

Yet, something had kept him from entering the building. What should he say? He didn't like to apologize or to admit that he had been wrong, and she really struck him as the type that would make him crawl. 

Instead of confronting Alex, he had gone to other garages in town, asking if they could use someone. But no — since this was the first week after the summer break, all trainee-ships were given away. 

He saw that Alex had offered him a golden opportunity, and once again he had spoken before using his brain. She probably wasn't going to give him a second chance. Yet, he hadn't much of a choice and so, he was standing in front of the garage again. 

Only after parking his bike and turning towards the entrance of the building, he saw her, leaning against a pile of car tires. Now, there really was no way back. 

She greeted him with an upward nod, blowing out a cloud of smoke. 

"Lost?" she asked him with raised eyebrows. 

Nope, she wasn't going to make this easy for him. 

"Is that offer still standing?"

"No." She leaned back, her eyes scanning his body. He didn't know if it was because she looked like a guy, but it made him feel uncomfortable, even when he knew he _always_ looked at girls like that. "But feel free to make me change my mind."

Right. What was he supposed to say now? "How?" he grumbled. 

She shrugged her shoulders. "I think my colleagues would suggest a blowjob. This is the only garage in town in which you can choose between dick and pussy, so it's your lucky day." With a smirk, she nodded to a fat mechanic who pushed himself between two cars. "Benny will volunteer, in case you prefer dick."

Emilio stared at her. He had no idea if she was serious. Her face told him she was, but there was a sparkle in her eyes. 

"You're fuckin' me."

"I wouldn't mind to."

His fingers clenched into a fist. "Just tell me if that offer still stands."

"With a good counter offer it does. You can't convince me you don't know how to please a woman. Give it your best shot, I'd say." Suggestively, she moved her knees apart. "If you're good, we might work something out."

Emilio gritted his teeth. This bitch was crazy. He was inclined to turn around, but somehow he was too proud to actually do so. 

"Fine," he grumbled.

She was probably bluffing anyway, although her smirk made him doubt that. She was surrounded by men here, it wouldn't surprise him if this was her usual way to get some. 

"Good boy. Let's go to my office then." She winked. 

He felt red spots creep up along his neck. Had he ever felt this uncomfortable? Walking away now however would mean loss of face as well. What would he tell Juan? He had told him to have a job by tomorrow. It wasn't like he'd never had a whore before. 

_But this time you're the whore, man._

Nevertheless, he walked to the back of the building. She led him through a small hallway to the back office. Gesturing him inside, she closed the door and locked it. 

Emilio swallowed, suddenly he felt hot as hell. She sat down on her desk, pointing at the floor. "Get on your knees, Bambi."

"Bambi?" he grumbled. 

"You're not used to following orders, are you? That might cause some trouble if I'm going to be your supervisor."

"And this ain't illegal, between teacher and student?"

"We haven't signed anything yet." Tilting her head, she looked at his waist. "Seems like your little friend is in the mood, tho."

Embarrassed, he turned away from her. He didn't understand why his body responded this way. He liked to be in control, to order some bitch to get down on her knees. He never thought that someone else's dominance would turn him on. 

A few breathless seconds he stared at the floor in front of the desk. Was he really _this_ desperate? Or should he just do her on this desk, was that what she really wanted? 

He almost told her he had a date with her little sister tonight to talk himself out of this, but he knew she would only tell him to stay away from Jip. He aimed his dark glance at her face. She looked so arrogant, so sure of herself. His glance wandered to her muscled arms, to the dark ink. She wasn't exactly the type he would fall for, but he couldn't deny that there was something in her attitude that turned him on, making him wonder how sex would be with a girl that was so different from all other chicks he had banged. His breathing fell heavier and he swallowed nervously. 

Yes — _nervously_. He didn't even know he had it in him. 

As if his feet operated independently from his brain, he walked towards her until he stood between her legs. He stared at her lips, to the ring in the bottom one. Maybe he should kiss her first, or...

Suddenly she started to laugh. "Damn boy. I'm just jokin' man." She raised her knee at the level of his stomach and pushed him away. "But okay. You're at least motivated and despite that dirty mind of yours you have acted a bit professional." She pushed herself away from the desk, sat down on the desk chair, and pointed to the other side of the table. "Tell me. What are you capable of?"

"In the field of cars?" he asked cynically, feeling incredibly embarrassed. 

"Yeah, Bambi. Cars. Bikes."

His jaw tensed at the sound of his new nickname, but he knew better than complaining about it. Instead, he tried to forget about the whole incident, summing up the things he had experience with.


	6. Chapter 6

Fifteen minutes and Rory had to leave. He slipped through the crack of Maddy's bedroom door and found her sitting at the desk. She was Mr. Somers' niece. Rory had lived with her parents for a while, until he had gone to college a year ago. A room had fallen vacant in Maddy's apartment, which Rory gladly had taken. Maddy's parents were incredibly sweet and they had been of great help, but often Rory had felt like a burden. Just like their two sons, they had witnessed many of his tantrums while he was trying to deal with the rejection of his parents. He still hadn't spoken to his family, he hadn't seen them in eighteen months. He had called them at their birthdays, but they all kept turning him down and it still caused him a lot of pain.

Yet, he tried not to linger in his sadness. His family situation was horrible, but apart from that, he was doing well. Maddy was his best friend and whatever was bothering him, Maddy and her parents were always there to listen to him. In the past months, he learned a lot about the different opinions among Christians; luckily, many of them believed that two boys or two girls were allowed to have a relationship too. It had given him peace, and so, he'd started dating a while back.

"You got any second date tips, Madds? That's where it always goes wrong." He flopped down on her bed.

He wasn't nervous, but he would neither have minded having a lazy night on the couch with Madds. Up to now, he had a few dates with guys he met through Tinder, but none of them had been really interesting. Somehow he only fell in love with purebred straight guys. This was the first time he was dating a boy he knew for a couple of months. Adam and he were both members of a Christian fraternity and they had both struggled with their sexuality. When Adam had reluctantly asked him out, Rory had responded enthusiastically. Doing something fun with someone was something he never refrained from. Adam however had been way too shy for Rory's taste, and therefore, it had been a bit of an awkward evening. Since Rory had already known about his shyness, he had taken him to a bowling center so they were at least doing something, but unfortunately, Adam hadn't been very competitive — and he had neither been very good at it. Nevertheless, it had led to a second date and Rory felt no regret. The boy probably just needed to loosen up a bit. He knew Adam had never kissed and all this was new to him, so he stayed positive and looked with curiosity at his friend.

"Well — that depends on it. What are you going to do?"

"I have no idea, it's up to him today. But knowing him a little... I guess he wants to cook me a meal and watch a movie?" Rory pulled a face. "I hope he's less romantic than I think he is... I can see him light candles and shit like that."

Maddy started to laugh. "Well... if things get too mushy you just tell him you've already seen the movie and say goodbye." She twisted a pen in her hand.

Rory chuckled. "He's never going to ask someone out again if I turn him down like that. He never dated someone before. I'm going to his place, hopefully, it'll make him feel more comfortable."

"You think there's a chance that you will fall in love with him?"

"I don't know. He's handsome, I just hope he'll loosen up a bit. He's always so serious, you know? But every human must be capable to have fun, right? Maybe he has just too many boring friends." He thought of the boys he hung out with — they weren't exactly party animals.

She started to laugh. "He might be one of the boring friends himself," she said. "But who knows — maybe he's more interesting than you think. That's why you're dating, right?"

"I'll find out soon enough!" Rory gave her an excited smile. "I better go now."

Maddy wished him luck and he raised his hand, waving her goodbye.

Adam lived only a few blocks away from him, but Rory decided to take his bicycle; maybe they could go to a bar afterward. Adam used to avoid public places, but Rory liked to have people around. Pressing the right doorbell, he waited until he heard Adam's voice.

"Hey! Rory here!" he said cheerfully.

There was a click, and Rory pushed open the door. Adam was living on the second floor, so he headed to the stairs and ascended them.

Adam was already waiting for him in the doorway.

"Hey!" He gave Adam a one-armed hug like he greeted most of his friends and peeked inside curiously. He liked to visit people at home to see how they were living. His first glance told him the boy wasn't a packrat like him, for everything looked tidy. Rory himself always left his stuff lying around, often Maddy collected his things when it was really getting out of control. It wasn't unwillingness — he was just very forgetful and a master in postponing things.

"Uh — come in." Adam stepped back, making an inviting gesture. His fingers were slightly trembling when he raked them through his dark brown hair. He was a very handsome boy, with his sparkling dark green eyes and tan skin. Yet, Rory had a thing for guys who were a little rough around the edges — although he had to admit that he liked the sight of Adam's blushing cheeks as well.

"Nice home," Rory said, entering the room and looking around. Inside, it looked more modern than from the outside. The kitchen was small and the seating area wasn't that big either, but there weren't living a lot of people here.

"You have one roommate, right?" he asked, looking at a picture from a Greek temple in front of which Adam, his little brothers, and his parents were posing. The sight of it caused a pang in his chest, but he pushed the pain away and turned back to his date.

"Yes, Zan. Most days he is with his girlfriend, so the house is all ours."

"Well, sounds like you have some big plans," he teased.

"I — I didn't mean to say that... that we..."

Rory grinned. "I know. I'm just teasing you." He slapped his shoulder, leaving his hand there. "You did something nice today? Apart from preparing a six-course dinner?"

"I wrote the outline for an essay. About the Renaissance."

"Oh, cool." He smiled. "About what exactly?"

He wasn't much of a reader, but he liked to delve into the past. He however chose movies and documentaries over books, or he went to some open-air museum.

"It's about how the architecture was influenced by the trends in architecture."

"Nice!"

"How was your first week? You have a lot of homework?"

Rory shrugged his shoulders. "I always save that for Sunday night," he smirked. Back in the day, it had been a deadly sin to do homework on a Sunday, but it hadn't taken long before he had abandoned that habit. Maddie's parents had shown him that many restrictions that were imposed by his family hadn't been Biblical at all, and breaking away from all those rules had been a true liberation.

He returned his attention to Adam, who looked shyly at the floor.

"Well — I'm hungry!" Rory said. "We have to prepare a lot?"

Adam shook his head. "No, some things only need to be warmed."

* * *

Adam had shown off his cooking skills; Rory had a feeling they were in a real restaurant. The atmosphere however was awkward; Adam was clearly nervous. Rory filled the silence talking about his holiday and asking Adam a lot of questions, hoping the boy would feel a bit more comfortable.

"You gotta tell me when I talk too much," he laughed. "That's what everyone does."

Adam gave him a small smile. "I don't mind. You — you have a beautiful voice."

Rory pushed his fork in his meat. "A beautiful voice? Well — I haven't heard that before." He winked at him. "I was afraid you lacked any flirting skills."

Blushing, Adam dropped his eyes.

Rory bit his tongue. He really didn't like to watch his mouth the whole time, being unable to say whatever thought crossed his mind. He didn't want Adam to feel uncomfortable, but it was hard to loose him up a bit.

"Well — dinner tasted delicious. You were too skilled to go to culinary school?"

"I considered it," Adam admitted. "But my parents wanted me to go to university, keeping cooking as a hobby."

"That's bullshit," Rory huffed. "You should do whatever you like."

"I like this too," Adam said quickly as if he wanted to defend his parents. "Umm. You want dessert?"

Rory patted his stomach. "Sure. I have little room left."

Adam went to the kitchen and returned with a bowl of self-made chocolate mousse.

"Looks good! I think I'm going to invite myself each week," he winked. "I really am a sucker for chocolate." He realized how ambiguous his words sounded, but a quick glance at the boy told him he didn't pick up on it. Which was probably for the best, otherwise Adam wouldn't dare to look at him the next hour.

"Well, you're always welcome," Adam smiled. "I'm enjoying your company."

Rory tried to imagine how he was having dinner with Zan every night. If he was just as talkative, it must feel like dinner never came to an end. In his apartment, they were always having fun, and silences were so scarce that everyone enjoyed them.

"Me too," he said nevertheless. A romantic dinner wasn't really his thing; he preferred to eat pizza and watch some cool movie as he would do with his friends, but Adam didn't.

"You want to watch a movie?" Adam suggested after clearing the table and flopping down on the couch.

"Oh — yeah, sure." He glanced at the clock. "Maybe we can go into town after that?"

"Umm, okay," Adam answered quietly. "If you like that more..."

"I like that more than going home," he winked. "And my dance moves are the best."

"Then we should watch Dirty Dancing first, for I can't dance at all."

Rory lifted the corner of his mouth. Well well — was that a joke?

"Their dances aren't very dirty." He wiggled his eyebrows; he even managed to make the boy laugh. It made Adam much more likable.

"You really want to watch Dirty Dancing?"

Rory laughed. "No. That romantic shit makes me fall asleep. You know that Fast and the Furious spin-off that came out a while back? We could steam it..."

"Isn't that illegal?" Adam asked, hesitantly.

"Nah. You got a laptop? And an HDMI cable?"

"I really know nothing about cables. I think there are a few in the cupboard next to the tv."

Rory got up, knelt in front of the cupboard, and rummaged through the drawer until he found the right cables. Adam put his laptop on the coffee table and turned it towards Rory, who opened Flixtor and looked up the movie.

"I haven't seen the other movies," Adam said. "Does that matter?"

"Nah. If you like this one we can watch the others later."

He connected the laptop to the tv and sat down on the couch again. From the corner of his eye, he looked at Adam, who looked a little crestfallen.

"You had another movie in mind? You can just tell me to cool it, huh."

"No, it's fine," he said quickly. "If you fell asleep while watching other movies..."

A smirk spread across his face. "Sorry," he said, although he wasn't completely sincere. "Unless you want to me fall asleep against you."

Once more, Adam's cheeks flushed.

Rory sat up straighter so he could wrap an arm around Adam. Teasingly, he kissed his cheek. "You're cute when you're blushing."

Those words only reddened his face. His eyes shot to Rory's lips, then he shyly turned his face away. For now, there wouldn't be any kissing. Hopefully Adam would change his mind after a few beers.

Rory took his arm away and started the movie, whereafter he sank back in the couch, creating a little more distance between Adam and himself. He wasn't very fond of being all touchy while watching a movie, often he was too immersed in the story. His date however seemed to feel encouraged, for halfway the movie he suddenly laid his hand on Rory's thigh. Just briefly, before Rory could enjoy it, the hand was gone. Something told him it was the only thing the boy had thought about the past hour, and that he hadn't paid much attention to the movie. Maybe the hope that something would happen between them had been the only reason he wanted to watch a movie.

Rory wondered why on earth the boy was so skittish. He leaned into Adam and whispered: "I didn't mind."

Adam looked briefly at him, returning his hand. Rory laid his own hand on top of it, squeezing it while turning his attention back to the movie. Only when the movie was over, he turned towards his date again.

"You look disappointed," he noticed. "You didn't like it?"

"I did," he said quickly. "I umm — it's nothing."

Rory chuckled softly. "You wished we had kissed?"

"No." His face became flaming red. "I don't know, maybe," he admitted quietly.

"It is going to be your first kiss. If I kiss you, I want to give you all attention." He leaned closer to the boy, looking him in the eye. "Like now." He cupped his jaw with his hand, his thumb caressing the smooth skin. Thereafter, he pressed his lips softly against Adam's, giving him a few kisses before slipping his tongue inside. His breathing told him how nervous Adam was, but Rory took the lead and tried to give Adam the best first kiss experience he had to offer. 


	7. Chapter 7

With a slight smirk, Rory watched how Adam put away his bike in a rack. He never did so. His hands slipped into his pockets while he waited until his date was ready. The smile around Adam's lips was nervous, but nevertheless, it lit up his face. Rory thought it was a beautiful smile; it was a shame that the boy was so reserved he only showed that smile sporadically. The kiss however had changed him; he was looking dreamily and the thought that Rory was the reason for that, caused a tickle in his stomach. He hadn't fallen in love with the boy yet, but he really liked him and he had a better feeling about this than about every other date he'd had in the past. Maybe things were indeed different when you already knew each other. Until he started dating Adam he had always liked boys at their first meeting, but now, he started to hope that it was also something that could grow.

"Ready?" he asked when Adam came to stand next to him.

The boy wiped his hands to his jeans. "I'm nervous, isn't that stupid? Except for with you I've never been on a date, and last time, we weren't, you know... clingy." His cheeks turned red. "I'm afraid of how people will respond to us."

"We don't have to do anything," Rory shrugged. "We can just have a beer and talk, hmm?"

Adam had never dated someone before and Rory understood his doubts. His own experiences hadn't given the boy much hope either. Yet, Adam hadn't lost his friends and family when he came out.

"They uh... They also have bars for... for people like us, right?" Adam said quietly. "At least there they won't stare at us."

"People like us?" Rory answered annoyed. "We're not some special kind of people. It makes no sense that we wouldn't be allowed to have a beer in a bar just because we don't like girls."

Adam dropped his eyes. "I know that but..." He sighed. "People _do_ believe we're different."

Rory shrugged his shoulders. Not his problem.

He had been to a gay bar one time, and he'd hated it. Half of the men were super extravagant and answered to every prejudice. Sure — they should do whatever they liked, but Rory didn't feel the need to join them.

"Believe me, you won't feel comfortable around there either. We're just gonna have a drink and then we'll see, okay? If you're really into it we can go to a gay bar after this, but to be honest; last time I lost my interest in the place within five minutes."

The two boys entered the bar and shoved behind the bar. There were two screens showing a soccer match; the game would be over within fifteen minutes.

Rory just got his beer when he saw a familiar face on the other side of the bar.

_Shit._

Quickly, Rory turned his back towards the boy, hoping he wouldn't be noticed.

"What's going on?" Adam asked.

"Nothing," he muttered. He looked around, slipped off his barstool, and sat down at a table in the corner, a little less in plain sight. A little flashy Adam looked around while sitting down across from Rory. He wasn't stupid, of course he knew something was going on.

"I saw a classmate," Rory said. "Who doesn't exactly like me."

To put it mildly. Rory was even inclined to go to a different bar, but the thought immediately called up a fierce resistance inside him. He had just as much right to be here as everyone else, although he was sure Patrick would claim the opposite once he saw Rory sitting here — with a boy.

After two more beers, Rory's thoughts let go of Patrick, and his eyes no longer wandered off. He rather looked at Adam, he concluded. To the expectant glistening in his eyes when Rory told him a story, to the little smile that seemed to be reserved for him alone.

"You ever been drunk?" Rory wondered after describing quite energetically how he and a friend had disposed all paving stones from his friend's garden, the first time he was wasted.

As expected, Adam shook his head. "No, never." He hesitated. "You don't think being drunk is sinful?"

Rory swallowed an annoyed sigh. Now and then he was really in for a theological discussion, but not _always,_ and especially not when they were hanging out in a bar.

"I think alcohol addiction is wrong — just like every other addiction — but being drunk every once in a while? Well, it sometimes just happens. I don't see any harm in it. Man must live a little. Drink a bit, chat a bit, flirt a bit..." He wiggled his eyebrows. "And..."

Suddenly, his arm was yanked backward roughly. A strong hand pulled him on his feet, squeezing his arm.

"What the fuck are you doin' here, de Jong?"

"De Jonge," Rory corrected him before knowing it.

"You don't belong here, faggot. You have your own gang-bang party on the other side of town."

Rory stumbled over his feet when Patrick pushed him backward.

"We're not bothering anyone man. We're just talking, just like everyone else."

"I don't care. This is my bar and I don't want to see your faggot face around here. Fuck off."

"I'm just fine right here," Rory answered with an angry frown. "If you can't keep your eyes off me you should leave yourself."

Patrick grabbed him by the collar, pulling Rory's face close to his. "You would like that huh? That I can't keep my eyes off you? And not only my eyes..."

It took Rory a superhuman strength not to spit his classmate in the face. Yeah — there had been a time he'd wanted to feel Patrick's hands. Once, there had been a kink in his brain, causing him to have feelings for this asshole, but that time was long gone. Placing his hands against Patrick's chest he tried to push him away, but the boy was much taller than he.

"Keep your filthy faggot hands off me," Patrick grumbled. "I'm telling you, leave or I will kick you out myself."

Fingers slipped around his wrist, they were shaking. "Come on Rory," Adam's nervous voice sounded. "Let's go."

Rory tore his arm away. "No!" he said, without looking aside. He kept his burning glance aimed at Patrick. "I won't be bullied. I have just as much right to be here as you. If you're homophobic, that's your problem and not mine."

Patrick laughed scornfully. "This is my hangout. If I tell you you don't belong here, I speak the truth."

"Rory... Come on, let's just leave!" Once again, Adam pulled at his arm.

"No!" he answered fiercely. "It's because of narrow-minded assholes like him that..."

He had turned his head towards his date — which he shouldn't have done. Now, he didn't see the blow coming. A fist hit his temple and he fell upon the table. Their glasses fell on the ground and shattered.

"Leave," Patrick grumbled.

"Rory..."

"Shut up!" he snapped at Adam, pushing himself away from the table. "Just stand up for yourself for once! We didn't even touch each other, we did nothing someone might see as offensive! There is no sign telling visitors that gay people are not welcome."

Adam flinched because of his outburst, but Rory didn't care. He clenched his fists, even though he knew he probably looked ridiculous because he was two heads smaller than his former friend.

Patrick snorted disdainfully. "What are you going to do, you baby. You wanna fight? I'll beat the shit out of you."

Rory noticed that everyone had gone quiet; they were all watching them. People started to gather around them; although it was still early, some had drunk enough to be in for throwing some fists.

"Who's that, Pat?" another boy asked, leaning his arm on Patrick's shoulder. His mocking glance wandered across Rory's face. "Isn't it bedtime for you, little boy?"

Rory clenched his jaw. He didn't care how many people would gather around them; he wouldn't let them chase him away.

"Rory lost his way to the gay bar," Patrick answered. "Look, his faggy boyfriend is already bawling his eyes out."

Rory snapped his head aside. Indeed; Adam's eyes were full of tears and his face was pale. Patrick's words made the boy flinch. For a moment Rory was torn between wanting to protect Adam and ravenous anger, but the last emotion overcame. Screaming, he launched himself at the much taller boy; despite his limited length he knew how to use his fists.

Patrick's friend started to laugh. "Damn, that little guy has quite a temper."

His mocking voice made Rory kick the guy's knee. He screamed when Patrick grabbed his hair, pulling back his head and punching him right in the face. "You really are a stubborn piece of shit, huh? You gotta lean your place, brat. Nobody wants you here.'

Patrick pushed him away, Rory stumbled and fell against a chair. Something warm slipped out of his nose, he tasted blood but he was too furious to feel the pain. There was only a deep sense of injustice inside him. He was already banished from the place he'd grown up, he wouldn't allow it to happen again!

"Hey!" a voice sounded all of a sudden. "Stop it!"

"Yeah, let him fuck off and go somewhere else," Patrick grunted, grabbing Rory's collar again.

His head was spinning.

"Not he, you, you idiot! Let go of him!" the unknown boy yelled. Rory thought it was Patrick's friend, they had been around the same table. "He's done nothing wrong."

"Faggots don't belong here." With these words, he lifted Rory up and threw him on the ground again, kicking his stomach.

Grunting in pain, Rory tried to scramble on his legs.

"Those boys have a right to be here as well. Leave him alone now."

Patrick ignored him, but his friend grabbed him from behind, keeping him in a headlock until the bartender finally called the security to take Patrick away.

The black-haired boy knelt down beside Rory and helped him on a chair. "Hey, are you okay?"

Rory looked at him through a haze of tears. Whether they were caused by pain or anger, he did not know, but he wiped his eyes and his bleeding nose. A sharp pain shot through his nose at the light touch.

"I'm okay," Rory muttered. "Thanks."

He had seen the boy before, at the gym he went to once in a while. He'd been a personal trainer there. It wasn't the first time Patrick treated him like this, although his excuses became more far-fetched every time. After their first fight, he had started to do some strength training because he hated not being able to defend himself like he wanted to.

His eyes flashed aside. To his disappointment, he saw that Adam was no longer around. He understood why the boy had left and he hadn't expected him to help, but he couldn't help but feel a little abandoned. Therefore, he was even more glad that some random guy had stood up for him.

The boy headed to the bar and returned with a dishcloth and some ice. "Here, press this to your face. For the swelling. I'm sorry my teammate did this to you."

"Thanks." Rory pressed the ice against his cheekbone. The boy could use some ice himself too, his eye started to swell. Patrick must have hit him too. "I should have seen this coming the moment I saw him," he sighed. "But I want to be able to go wherever I want, without hiding. Apparently, I'd expected a bit more decency from him."

"I didn't know he was capable of this," the boy admitted. "Beating up and threatening someone without a reason. Of course you're welcome in this bar."

"We're in the same class and last year we were good friends." He sighed. "Then I fell in love with him, and I tried to kiss him. Ever since, he hates me."

At most first encounters he avoided saying something about his sexuality, just because it was the reason he had lost many friends. But this boy already knew about it and seemed to be fine with it.

"What a stupid reason to hate someone," the boy said. "He's never been worth your friendship."

Rory laughed a bit scornfully. "You will be surprised to know how many people reject others because of their preferences. Unfortunately," he continued a little sad, thinking about his "friends" at home.

"Yeah, unfortunately," the other boy said gloomily before his lips curled into a smile again. "Just be yourself! I'm Mickey, by the way."

"I do what I can," Rory said with a slight smile. He looked around to see if Adam had returned, but he doubted he would dare to come back. He was still a little disappointed in Adam's response, and therefore he wasn't in the mood to go after him. Even more, it would make him feel like Patrick had succeeded in chasing him away, and apart from that, Mickey seemed to be a really nice guy. "I'm Rory."

"Is he your boyfriend? That guy who left?"

"My date. This was our second date." He sighed. "He was already afraid that people would judge us... He's never dated before."

"And guys like Patrick don't make things easier," Mickey sighed. "You think he'll come back?"

"I don't think so. I'll send him a text, I'll see him tomorrow anyway." Actually, he needed some time to think to decide whether he wanted to continue this with Adam or not. He understood the boy wasn't used to violence, but he wasn't sure this could lead to something if he was afraid of confrontations. That was not who he was.

"Can I buy you a drink?" Mickey smiled. "To show you that we're not all assholes?"

"Uh, sure!" Rory answered, a little surprised. "My beer fell when I was thrown at the table, so I could use a new one."

"Good! You live close-by?"

"Around ten minutes by bike. Close enough to have some drinks," he smirked. "What about you?"

"Yeah, around the same distance. Close to the supermarket. Have you been here before? You have a familiar face, but I can't place it..."

"I've been here on Friday nights. I'd never seen Patrick around here, so if you hang out here on Saturdays..." He shrugged his shoulders. "But I go to the gym now and then. You work there, right? I thought to recognize you too..."

Mickey was a handsome boy, his friendly face was hard to forget.

"That's right! That's where I've seen you. Maybe we can do some workouts sometime. I could teach you some self-defense."

"That won't hurt," Rory said with a slight smirk. "Being as small as me creates many disadvantages."

"Okay cool. Stop by next week so we can plan a session."

Rory smiled gratefully at him.

* * *

Even though Patrick had absolutely tried to ruin his night, the next morning Rory looked back to a good night. But a night without his date. Until past midnight he had talked with Mickey and his friends. They could get along pretty well, they liked the same kind of games and tv shows. Somehow it was a relief he didn't feel attracted to the boy immediately so that possible feelings wouldn't be in the way _again,_ and he was also glad that Mickey already knew that he was into guys, so he wouldn't surprise him with that anymore.

Yesterday Adam had sent him a text, apologizing and telling him he was worried. Rory had told him that he was still at the bar where he met some cool people and that Adam could return if he still wanted to, but Adam only told him that he was tired and that he rather stayed at home. Rory had shrugged it off.

By now he had put on his jeans and a Demon Hunter band shirt, whereafter he brushed his hair and watched himself in the mirror. His eye was swollen and his skin covered in bruises. That would raise a lot of questions, but he would shake them off. He would just tell him he'd been in a mosh pit, that happened a lot too.

It was 9 o'clock when he left his bedroom. Dee and Ronnie were probably still asleep, but he expected Maddie any moment and decided to make her breakfast.

"What happened to you?" she asked in disbelief, the moment she saw him. "Morning, by the way."

"Adam likes it rough," he joked. With a fold, he divided the omelet into two parts. "No, I wish that was true. We had an encounter with Patrick at the bar and he believed we were only welcome in gay bars. And eh, well, I didn't exactly agree."

"Did he _hit_ you?" Madelief asked horrified. "How can someone do that?" Shaking her head, she sat down next to Rory. "I hope you hit him pretty well too."

"Not where I _wanted_ to hit him," Rory muttered. He wished he'd punched him in the face too, but it had been a difficult corner and in the end, he had only hit the underside of his chin. It probably hurt, but it wouldn't leave any bruises. He shook off the memory, he didn't plan to let that asshole ruin _another_ day. "There was a guy who helped me out, and I hung out with him and his friends for a couple of hours. He works at the gym and promised to teach me a thing or two."

"Oh, I'm happy someone helped you out," Maddie said. "And his friends, were they nice too?"

"Yeah, most of them were." Rory thought about Adam and suppressed a sigh. "Adam left during our fight."

"Oh." Maddie pulled a face. "That sucks. You've spoken to him since?"

"He texted me that he was sorry and that he was worried about me. I told him I was still at the bar and invited him to come back, but he told me he was tired and rather went to sleep." He bit his cheek. "I really don't know what to do with him," he sighed. "Yesterday we kissed and actually I had a good feeling about it, but I'm not sure I can be with someone... who can't stick up for himself."

"You can give it some time, right? It's hard for him, he just came out and in our world, it's even harder. There is a lot of judgment, and he was confronted with it yesterday." She sighed. "Although it doesn't suit him; that he left you."

"Yeah... I know." He thought back to yesterday's kiss. He had enjoyed it, even though he wasn't sure he would ever fall in love with Adam. Although he would find out eventually. "It won't hurt to have another date," he said.

Taking a sip from his glass of milk, he glanced at the clock, wondering whether he should talk to Adam before or after church. He decided for the latter; that way, they could take all the time they needed.

"That's absolutely true. And maybe things will become easier for him too." She took a bite of her omelet. "Oh Rory, this is burnt!" She pulled a face. "Next time I will make eggs!"

* * *

Together with Maddie, Rory entered the community center where the service was held. It looked nothing like the divine services he used to go to when he was younger; there, everyone was pressed together on the hard pews, the vast majority of the church-goers had been grey and there had only been organ music. He was going to a youth church now, with a small band and the whole place didn't feel suffocating at all. Rory felt much more at home.

On his way to the chairs he talked to some people, luckily nobody asked questions about his bruised face. Maddie gave him a little push towards Adam when she noticed the empty seat next to him. Very briefly their eyes met before Adam turned his face away. His cheeks turned red.

Even though he'd seen the boy blush multiple times, it still made him smirk. He would probably never find a sweeter boyfriend.

"Hey," he said, flopping down on the empty chair next to the boy.

"Hey," Adam answered softly. Nervously he looked at Rory, biting his lip, his glance glued to Rory's bruised face. Rory was surprised when the boy lifted his hand and very lightly brushed the swelling.

"It looks pretty bad," he said, worry in his voice.

Rory shrugged his shoulders. "You should see him."

It was greatly exaggerated, but Adam didn't need to know that.

"I'm really sorry," Adam said once again. Lowering his hand, he bent his head. "I'm so ashamed of my cowardice."

Rory believed his honesty was attractive, and he laced his fingers with Adam's. "It's okay," he said. "We can't all be fighters." He winked. "Next time we will stay away from the bar?"

Adam looked up, his cheeks flushing. "You want another date?"

"Yeah — except for that shit with Patrick, we had a great night, right?"

"I thought that you would find me boring." Adam's answer was only a whisper.

"Well maybe you _are_ a little boring," Rory teased. Briefly, his lips rested upon Adam's jaw, making him long for the warmth of his lips. However, as tolerant as people believed to be; he knew better than kissing someone in the middle of the church. "But that doesn't have to be a bad thing. Someone needs to keep me in check," he winked.


	8. Chapter 8

Emilio wouldn't say he was nervous, but he didn't feel completely comfortable when he rang the doorbell of Jip's apartment. The only movies he'd watched with girls were porn and they all knew what the purpose of that was. This girl was different — she was greener than grass. For him, watching a romantic movie together was simply step one to get into her pants. Whether he would succeed, remained to be seen. The fact that he now knew that she was his boss' little sister wasn't making things less awkward at all. He was probably going to regret this — but he was here now anyway. 

The door swung open. "Hi, Emilio!" Jip looked at him with an innocent, shiny smile. 

"Hey, beautiful." Giving her a wink, he leaned into her to kiss her cheek before taking distance again. 

Her eyes were sparkling. "Do you want a drink?" she asked, leading him to the living room. "I bought ice tea."

"Yeah, sure." He walked with her to the kitchen and leaned against the door frame while watching how she opened the fridge and took glasses from the cupboards. 

While he waited, he looked around. One of Jip's roommates was sitting on the couch. A pretty girl with long blond curls. The moment he gave her a nod, she quickly looked away. He thought to hear her mutter a greeting, but he wasn't completely sure of it.

"That's Grace," Jip introduced her. "Grace, do you want a drink too? Hmm, maybe Sep wants a drink too, he's on the roof terrace to have a smoke," she told Emilio. Shrugging, she filled two more glasses, although Grace murmured she was fine. 

Emilio noticed that Grace barely dared to look at him. Which was a little over the top; it wasn't like he was going to jump her bones. She might be insanely beautiful, but she looked boring and didn't have the slightest bit of a sex appeal. Her grey sweater saved too much for the imagination and she looked like she wished she was wearing a turtleneck. 

If Jip wouldn't have been right behind him, he might have said something flirty anyway, but he didn't want to show her that she wasn't exactly his first. He turned around and took a glass from Jip. "Thanks, babe."

"I already downloaded the movie and connected my laptop to the tv," Jip said. "But we'll have to sit on my bed for I don't have a couch." She led him into her room. 

Emilio followed her. "Sure."

_Even better._

He entered the room. It looked girly, movie posters were decorating the walls. It reminded him of the room of a 14-year-old and it made him feel uncomfortable. How old was she? She was at least 18, right? She didn't look smart enough two skip two school years.

"It's a Christmas movie, I hope you don't mind?" Jip said. She sat down on her bed.

"All good." He crawled atop of the mattress and sat down with his back against a pile of pillows. Hopefully, he wouldn't fall asleep. 

Jip pressed play and took a seat next to him, pulling up her knees and wrapping her arms around them. 

The movie was boring. Not that he expected anything more of it, but it sucked anyway. This was the reason he never watched movies with chicks. Well — he'd have to find a way to make things more interesting himself. He waited for a romantic moment at the screen and subtly laid an arm around her. 

Jip looked at him, hesitating, seemingly wondering whether she should do something too. In the end, she snuggled up to him, laying her hand on his shoulder. She didn't seem to know what to do with her arm, for she replaced it three times. 

Her insecure movements showed Emilio she hadn't done this before. With his thumb he brushed her shoulder, hoping to make her feel more relaxed. He looked aside and smiled when she caught his glance. 

She blushed. Slowly, she laid a hand against his chest. Her fast breathing told him how nervous she felt. Was she expecting something from him? He deemed the chance very little that _she_ would kiss _him_ , but he didn't want to startle her. Lifting his hand, he raked his fingers through her red hair, now and then slightly touching her auricle. Actually, he had no idea what the hell he was doing. Yeah — he was quite experienced in bed, but usually, he skipped tender gestures like this. Jip however was like a shy schoolgirl. He thought back to when he was in high school when Juan dated the shyest girl in school. Doing all those little things girls loved was natural to him. Back then, Emilio had only rolled his eyes at it; he never understood how his best friend could be with a girl that still refused to have sex after six months. Now, he wished he could borrow a bit of his friend's subtlety. 

"Did you like it?" she asked when the movie was over. 

His fingers stroked her hair and he turned a little more towards her. "To be frank, it was hard to watch the movie since there was a very sweet and beautiful girl sitting next to me."

Jip blushed. Her thoughts seemed to wander off, and suddenly it looked like she made a decision. Raising herself a little, she pressed her lips against his mouth. 

Well — that was easy. He doubted she had a lot of experience, so after pressing a few kisses to each other's lips, he took the lead by cupping her jaw and turning his head a little. It wasn't a wild, passionate kiss and he held himself back by acting as tender as he could when his tongue slipped into her mouth. 

It was a boring kiss. Emilio laid a hand against her hip, stroked her side, and turned the kiss into something a little more playful by pulling back his tongue a little to toy with the tip of hers before stroking it again. 

"And? Did you like it?" he asked after ending their kiss. "You haven't kissed a lot of times, did you?"

"No, I've never kissed before," Jip said. "Did you?"

"Only a couple of times," he lied. "We could practice a bit more if you like?"

Jip nodded. "Okay. Uhm — you mean now?"

"Uh-uh." Laying her hand against her cheek, he leaned into her and kissed her once more. 

Things felt a little easier this time — until she pulled back in shock. 

Emilio created a little more distance to see why she'd frozen. "What is it?"

"I felt something," she whispered. "Something weird. Between my legs."

Emilio stared at her, overwhelmed by her words. He had no idea what to say — which didn't happen very often. Was she horny? He was barely excited; she was more intriguing than super hot. Somewhere in the back of his head was a voice telling him she wasn't right in the head and that he shouldn't push for further, but Emilio chose to ignore it. _Someone_ needed to tell her how all this worked, right? "Some girls get excited when they kiss," he explained. "Or when they do other things."

"Excited?" she asked hesitantly. "You mean sexually?"

Emilio nodded, brushing his thumb across her bottom lip. "Yeah... sexually."

"Oh! I don't think I've ever been that before. Can we try it again?"

His fingers wandered through her curls. "Why don't you lay on top of me?"

"Okay." Jip did as he said and crawled on top of him, leaning into him to kiss him. 

Now her body was pressing against his, he noticed he _was_ getting excited. His fingers tangled up in her hair as he kissed her back, a little more passionate than before. His hand stroked her back and settled right above her waistband. 

Slowly, she started to rub her waist across his crotch. Emilio let her be; it was kinda funny to help her with her first sexual explorations. 

He thought they were doing fine; she seemed to feel comfortable enough to feel his hands underneath her shirt. Caressing her back, his lips left hers and he trailed kissed down her neck. 

When she let out a soft moan, he hooked his thumbs underneath her bra. "Let's take our shirts off, okay?" he whispered in her ear. 

She nodded. Raising herself a little, she pulled her shirt over her head. He did the same and she laid her hands on his chest before she started to kiss him again. 

His breathing sped up as he watched her upper body. "Damn girl," he said. His hands slipped across her stomach and bra. He couldn't wait to take the thing off, but he held back a little longer. 

She started to kiss his neck too; it was getting harder and harder to keep himself in check. He hadn't had sex in a week and he feared to lose control over his hands. Up to now, she seemed fine with everything he did, so he unhooked her bra, rolled her on her back and started to kiss her neck, while his hands massaged her breasts before he moved his lips to her nipples. 

Her soft moans encouraged him to kiss his way down until he reached her pants. Would she allow him to go further? It was hard to tell. He looked up at her. "Did you like this? I can make you feel even better, but you gotta take off your pants."

"Will you take off your pants too?" she asked. 

"Yeah. We can also take off all of our clothes?"

The girl was visibly hesitating. "That's what they do in the movies too, right?"

Emilio got the feeling that movies were her frame of reference. More and more he was starting to believe that she was autistic and he wasn't completely sure he wasn't misusing her trust. But she wanted this, right? It wasn't like he was forcing her into something...

"Okay," she said eventually. 

Emilio unbuttoned her pants and pulled them down, pressing kisses to her legs. Before he took off her underwear, he made sure he was naked too.

* * *

Sep noticed that the eyes of his roommate kept wandering off to the door of Jip's room. She looked worried. 

"What's going on?" he asked. 

"She went to watch a movie with some guy," she said timidly. "But I have a really bad feeling about him. And Jip is, well..." She sighed. "I'm just worried."

Sep understood her sorrow. After all, it wasn't without reason that Alex had asked him to put in a good word for her little sister when there was a room vacant. He told her he didn't want to be a babysitter, but he was okay with checking if the two were still watching a movie instead of something else. 

He headed to the door of Jip's room and listened to hear if the movie was still on. "Hey, you two do it safely, right?" he yelled. "There's no room for babies here!"

It was meant to be a joke — it was hard to imagine that Jip was doing more than snuggling. When he didn't get an answer in return, he swung open the door. 

Jip started to scream immediately. "This is my room! This is an invasion of privacy!"

Sep barely moved. Instead, he stared at Emilio who was seated on her bed, completely naked. He knew the guy, they'd smoked some pot now and then when he was visiting Juan. And he also knew Grace's worries had been completely right. 

"Fuck off," the boy snarled, quickly tossing his pants to cover Jip's body. "Fuck off, lurker!"

"No, _this_ is an invasion of privacy," Sep answered, pointing from Emilio's naked body on Jip's bed to the girly room. "What the hell do you think you're doin', bro."

"Go away, go away!" Jip yelled, pulling at the blankets to hide her nakedness. Tears were filling her eyes. "This is _my_ room."

Emilio jumped up, pushed Sep out of the room, and closed the door behind him. "What the fuck are you doing man?"

Sep used the palms of his hands to keep Emilio away. "What the hell are _you_ doing? Why, of all the girls around here, are you bangin' this chick? She doesn't even know you."

Emilio snorted. "So? What's wrong with a bit of fun? I didn't do anything wrong. Go busy yourself with your own cock."

The situation was very sobering. One moment he had been chilling on the couch, and now he was standing here across from Emilio while confusion and anger were battling inside his head. 

"She doesn't know what she wants, man. You are using her. You wouldn't bang her if she wasn't that hot." For she _was_ hot, but Jip was... well, Jip, and he knew she was very different from the girls he had ever fucked. "You think Alex's gonna be okay with this? She's gonna kill you, man."

"She was fucking horny, of course she knows what she wants," Emilio bit back, ignoring his comment about Alex. "Don't act like she's an imbecile, she's a bit naive that's all. And I _always_ bang hot chicks, don't tell me you're getting off on fatties."

"Oh come on! When she came to live here a few weeks ago, she was still sleeping with a teddy bear. You really believe she's ready for sex? Back off dude."

"Back off yourself. She's upset because of what _you_ did to her, not because of me." He turned around and wanted to enter the room, but the girl had locked the door. "Jip?" He knocked at the door. "Gimme at least my clothes, okay?"

A moment later the door slipped open.

* * *

Moody, he stepped into the room. Jip pressed her phone against her ear. 

"Alex...?" Her voice was shaking. 

_Fuck._ Emilio froze at the sound of her name. Only now, he realized that she would not only give him a good beat up, but she might fire him as well. "Don't mention my name," he hissed while starting to dress himself. 

"I was — naked," Jip said through the phone. "And then Sep came in... In my room! He can't do that! It's an invasion of privacy!"

Emilio could hear Alex's voice through the phone. "What was he doing in your room?"

"I was on a date," Jip whispered. "And it was just like the movies! It was really fun, but then Sep entered my room all of a sudden and — and then he saw me naked..."

"You were naked on a date?" Alex yelled. "Are you out of your mind? What motherfucker made you do that?!"

"It was really fun," Jip defended herself. "And he was really sweet! And I was excited so we took off our clothes."

"I'll be there in a minute," Alex grumbled. 

"You have to go," Jip whispered to Emilio. "Alex is on her way."

"Fuck. Don't say anything about me, okay?" He pulled his shirt over his head and grabbed his shoes. Before he left, he pulled her in for a hug. "I'm sorry things ended this way. Next time we'll lock the door, okay?" He kissed her forehead.

Jip nodded, biting her lip. "Sorry."

Once Emilio closed the door behind him, he saw Sep. He realized that it didn't matter what Jip would say; Sep would tell Alex the truth anyway. He ignored the guy he'd always been okay with and went to Juan's apartment. Grabbing a beer from the fridge, he flopped down on the couch and sighed. Juan and his roommates were nowhere to be seen. 

* * *

Barely 30 minutes later someone slammed at the door. He had known she would come. "Open that fucking door!" she roared. 

He was tempted to go to Juan's bedroom and pretend he wasn't home, but he doubted she was going to leave. He didn't want to be childish either, and she was just a girl. She might have a big mouth, but that was all. 

Squaring his shoulders, he headed to the door. He wasn't skinny, but damn, Alex had quite the muscles. He had taken her for a guy when they met for a good reason. He swung open the door. Before he could say or do something, she grabbed him by the throat and slammed her fist against his jaw. 

"What the fuck were you thinking? That you could fuck my little sister?"

"I didn't kn..."  
  
His head snapped aside when her fist met his jaw. Pain flashed through his skull. Damn — that girl knew how to throw a punch. He stumbled backward. He wanted to fight back, but his ears were ringing and dark spots blocked his vision. 

"Don't lie to me, shithead. You knew damn well she was my sister and you _also_ knew she'd been an easy one to get in bed."

She pushed him backward until he bumped against the table and fell on top of it. Alex bent over him. Her eyes were flaming; for the first time in years, he felt panic. 

"You know what I did to the last one who hurt my family? I nailed his fingers to the table. All of them."

This was no big talk; her angry face told him she was really that fucked in the head. 

"You're insane," he grunted. Her hand was still clutched around his throat and he tried to yank her wrist away. He however was still uncomfortably on his back while she was standing. 

She lifted the corner of her mouth, her smirk looked manically. "Yeah, I'm fucking insane. Makes you wonder how stupid you must be to piss me off like this."

She had a point. But he had underestimated her enormously — or he had simply thought with his dick. 

"And what now?" he asked. "You're gonna beat the shit outta me?" He glanced briefly at her muscular arms and couldn't help but feel a bit jealous. 

"Sunday," she answered. 

"Sunday?" he repeated, confused. 

"Sunday you'll be at the boxing gym and then you can show me what you got. I ain't risking my freedom for a dumb ass like you. I'm still on parole."

She let go of him. 

Still on parole? What — had she been in prison? He didn't even know why it surprised him. 

And he certainly didn't know why it turned him on and he couldn't help but wonder what an animal she'd be in bed. 

Although she was probably lesbian. 

"And what if I don't show up?"

"Of course you will," she huffed. "You ain't a pussy, right?"

"No," he muttered.

He stared at her. Maybe it was because of the alcohol, although he hadn't drunk _that much_ , but this whole situation was just crazy. A stupid grin spread across his face. He sat up straight. Her anger hadn't disappeared, he could feel it crackle in the air. "Hey, I didn't do anything she didn't want me to."

"She doesn't know what she wants."

He snorted. "She's not a kid. She knew very well..."

Alex grabbed his chin, squeezing so hard he was afraid his jaw would break. "I'm going to say this one time, Sanchez. Stay away from my sister, we both know this isn't going to give her a happy ending. I'll put down every guy that only wants her to have a fuck. You're lucky that you're my student and that I don't want to embarrass myself by losing my first student after one day, but I'm fucking serious. You go to Jip, apologize to her and you tell her there's no future for the two of you. Sunday, you're at the ring at 4 pm and I'm gonna make you crawl back home. And then, you can still call yourself lucky."

His breathing faltered when her stormy eyes drilled into his. 

"Understood?"

"Yeah," he muttered. 

"Yes who?"

"Yes ma'me? Yes boss?" He couldn't shake off a mocking tone. "What do you wanna hear? Yes mistress?"

She smirked. "Yeah, you'd like to call me mistress, huh?"

Her eyes darted to his crotch. He didn't have to look down to know what she was seeing and for some reason he felt his cheeks heat up. He had never met a girl who'd grabbed him by the balls like this. He didn't make a snarky comment about the fact that she was a tomboy since his body was already betraying him. 

She stepped away from him. With one look she ordered him to follow. Emilio wasn't in the mood to make a fuss, his head was pounding and the right side of his face started to swell. Silently, he followed Alex. She knocked on the door of Jip's bedroom. The moment the girl opened the door, Alex stepped inside and gave him an impatient look. 

Emilio scratched his neck. This was fucking awkward. "Can you give us a moment?"

"No."

He sighed and looked at Jip. She looked insecure. "I'm sorry," he said. "For trying to sleep with you."

Jip's eyes widened. "Alex, what did you do? His face!" She covered her mouth with her hand. 

"Emilio can take a hit. Don't you, Bambi?"

He gave her a dirty look but muttered something in agreement. 


	9. Chapter 9

Emilio woke up when someone stumbled into his room, laughing loudly. The desk chair fell over and as Emilio rolled on his side, he saw that Juan was struggling with his jeans while trying to take them off. 

"Fuck, I'm so drunk," his friend chuckled. "You better pray I'm not gonna puke." He flopped down on the edge of his bed — miscalculating the distance so his hip slammed against the wood, making him cuss. 

"What the hell are you doin' here?" Emilio answered, only half awake. "Why don't you sleep at Dana's? You know I've slept here the past week."

"Hm? Well — I was in a fight with Dana." He sounded sad. "She was wearing such a hot dress — and I was stupid, I told her to wear something else if she was going out without me. And then, she got mad. And I felt like shit so I drank way too much but now I'm fine." Chuckling, he shoved underneath the blankets. "And tonight I'm gonna sleep in my own bed." He hugged his pillow. "I've missed you."

"Dude!" Emilio kicked Juan's leg. "I sleep naked."

The boy shrugged. "I've seen you naked before. And this is my bed. You can sleep on the floor if you like. So, how was your date?"

Emilio let out a grunt. 

"Your first date was a disaster? How do you feel now? Wait — lemme switch on the light before I fall asleep." Juan reached for the night light. Emilio squeezed his eyes against the bright light. The moment Juan looked at Emilio's face, his eyes almost popped out. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Angry sister," he muttered. "It was stupid. I wanted to bang Alex's sister. I knew she would be pissed but Jip is hot."

The words barely seemed to reach Juan. Absently, he lifted his hand and brushed his fingertips across the swelling on his cheekbone. "Does it hurt?"

Emilio stared at him. What the fuck was he doing? "I'm fine," he muttered eventually. "She's gonna beat the shit outta me Sunday."

"Hmm..." His hand descended, caressing the stubble on Emilio's jaw. 

"What the fuck are you doin'?" Emilio had wanted to snap at him, but his voice was shaking. 

"We had a guy's night and we were doing some truth and dare game and I had to tell 'em which guy I'd kiss if I had to choose. So I told them I'd kiss Isa since he looks like a girl. But I was thinking of you."

"Right. This is fucking gay."

Juan chuckled — or maybe he was more giggling. "Aren't you curious?"

"To what?"

"What it feels like to do... stuff with a guy?"

"No. Fuck off."

Juan stared at him. 

Emilio swallowed, suddenly feeling nervous. 

"You're too chicken?"

Emilio didn't answer. He avoided Juan's gaze, his heart was slamming in his chest. 

"You're curious too, huh?" He brushed Emilio's lips with his thumb. "Nobody will ever know. Our little secret." He laughed quietly. "Shall we do it?"

Emilio held his breath as his eyes wandered to Juan's. "You're fucking serious, huh?"

"Hmm-hmm." He leaned closer to Emilio, his lips an inch away from Emilio's. "Last chance," he whispered. 

Kissing a guy... It had never crossed his mind. He already felt sick when he saw two kissing guys on tv, let alone that he'd ever considered doing it himself. And yet... Right at this moment, he couldn't remember why it had disgusted him. His glance shot from Juan's lips to his brown eyes. His wide pupils told him he was high and he knew his friend would never have done this when he was sober. He had a girlfriend, for fuck's sake. He however was too weak to come up with that argument out loud. Juan's hand slightly pressed against his bruised jaw; despite the pain, he didn't want his friend to pull his hand away. 

When Emilio made no move to kiss him, the look in Juan's eyes changed. Was he disappointed? No — why would he? A gnawing feeling awoke in his stomach as his friend muttered something inaudible. Did he really want to go through with this? Wasn't this fucking weird? When Juan moved his lips away from Emilio's, Emilio's instincts took over. Laying a hand against his friend's neck, he pulled his face back. 

Their lips met. Hesitantly, but exactly because of that it felt like a conscious decision. Somehow he expected to feel a deep disgust and he was ready to push Juan away, but there were no such feelings. In some way, it felt familiar, as if their friendship was so strong there were no boundaries. He relaxed a little, pressing kisses against Juan's lips until he opened his mouth, brushing his tongue across Emilio's bottom lip. 

A tingling spread through his mouth and woke up his tongue, which curiously sought for that of his friend. Despite the countless girls he'd kissed, he had never been so aware of a kiss. A glowing heat spread through his body, even his toes curled down. He liked it. He was making out with his best friend and he _liked_ it. A lot. 

Juan probably came to the same conclusion, for the kiss started to become more heated. Emilio's fingertips slightly caressed Juan's neck and he took a deep breath when his friend laid a hand against his chest. The touch sped up his breathing, his muscles tensed beneath Juan's touch. He wanted to feel him _everywhere._

The thought shocked him, in such an obvious way that Juan broke the kiss. Emilio regretted it immediately, which only confused him more. 

"What is it?" Juan asked. His hand glided down until it reached his lowest ribs before it slipped back upwards until his fingers brushed his collarbone. The caress made him close his eyes. His breathing faltered when Juan bent over him and started to kiss his neck until he reached his ear. "I know you better than anyone," he whispered. "I know you love this."

His words caused a pang in his stomach. 

"Relax," Juan laughed. "You act like a virgin dude."

He wondered if the virgins he used to sleep with were also feeling so confused. "Well, in this matter I _am_ a virgin," he muttered. _Which I'd like to keep that way._

He didn't say these last words out loud, for right now, he had no idea what he wanted. 

"I've never done this before either."

"You're high and drunk." With a sigh, he pushed Juan away. "Do you even realize you're cheating on your girl?"

"With you?" He chuckled. "She will laugh about this."

And with good reason. This was making no sense at all. 

"Come on, E... We've done stupid things when we were drunk before. Wait — there's a bottle of Passoa in the fridge. Drink it."

"Damn it, you really want this, don't you?" Emilio asked in disbelief. 

Juan laughed. "Yeah, the kiss was good." He was lying on his side, his left hand supporting his head. His other hand wandered across Emilio's stomach, his forefinger circling around his navel now and then. Emilio knew very well Juan's hand was only a few inches away from his waist. The thought made his whole body glow. A thrilling desire raced through his veins and he pushed all his doubts away. He started to kiss Juan again, this time more confident. The kiss was rough, his teeth were tugging at Juan's lip, and the other way around. He moaned when his excitement increased, which encouraged Juan to kiss his neck. Goosebumps spread across his body; now and then he tended to become ecstatic as if he was tripping. 

Maybe he was. Maybe the both of them were so fucking high he didn't even remember taking some stuff. Maybe all of this only happened in his head. 

Juan shoved his hand further down. Right below his belly button, he stopped. Without giving it real thought, Emilio pushed his arm further down. He was so hard it almost hurt. A moan slipped his lips as Juan's fingers stroked his manhood. "Damn boy. You're already drippin'."

For the first time in his life, someone managed to make him blush in bed. Once again he felt the urge to stop, but right when he wanted to turn away, Juan grabbed him and started to pump his hand up and down. 

All the heavy feelings Emilio was experiencing made him curse, and he let out a wronged grunt when Juan pulled his hand away. 

"I knew you'd love this," Juan whispered in his ear before moving his lips to his neck again. 

Emilio didn't know what to say or do when Juan's lips descended down his collarbone and explored his chest. His hand rested on the back of Juan's head and he moaned quietly when Juan's tongue lapped his nipple. 

"Fuck," he grunted, panting. Every inch Juan's lips moved further down, unleashed a new load of heat. There were tinglings everywhere; he was aware of every touch and he didn't understand why he'd never felt like this before. When his friend reached his waist, he held his breath. 

He might be high and drunk, but he still had some borders, right? 

Apparently not, for he felt his soft lips against his heated skin. The tip of Juan's tongue stroked the most sensitive part of his body. He couldn't take his gaze away from Juan. There was no reluctance; his confidence was a huge turn-on.

Suddenly, Juan looked up. His smirk, his confidence... For a moment he believed that it was Mateo who was looking at him. The thought of Juan's older brother made his cock throb in anticipation. He pressed himself closer to Juan, burning with impatience now. 

"Do — do it," he stammered as Juan kept staring at him with his dark eyes. 

An arrogant grin crossed his lips. Fuck — since when did he look so much like his brother? Did he catch a glimpse of how Juan would be when the chaos in his head was silent and he was no longer questioning everything and everyone? 

"Do what?" he said in a teasing tone. 

"Lick me. Suck me. I don't fucking care; this is torture man."

Juan chuckled. "Looks like Emilio is finally back in tha house."

Emilio wanted to make a smartass comment, but he forgot about it when Juan dipped his head and started to lick and kiss his trembling excitement. 

Emilio raised himself on his elbows and watched Juan's head bobbing up and down, taking more and more of him. A paralyzing feeling traveled through his stomach and chest. 

Damn — this felt so good. So fucking good. Even though this was Juan's first time, he knew exactly what Emilio liked. Was it always like this between men? Because they knew how it felt, while a girl could only guess at it?

His breathing fell heavier, his arms started to shake. 

He squeezed his eyes, arched his back. Even with closed eyes, he could still see Juan's face. He imagined Mateo in this bed; they were sucking him in turns. As he caught himself in his own fantasy, his cheeks turned flaming red, but the pleasure quickly took over. Shivers rolled through his body, his head became empty, was filled with impulses of pleasure. He moaned, harder and harder, no longer caring about what name he was calling out. He didn't think of anything anymore, he was in complete ecstasy when his body started to tremble and he released his heat in Juan's mouth. 

Panting he kept lying there, a deep feeling of contentment and happiness rolled over him. 

Juan laid down next to him, wrapped an arm around him and kissed his chest. For a while, they were lying there in silence. It felt like their friendship had found a hidden door. He could do this every day. 

"How was it?" he asked after a while. He felt small, vulnerable, and at the same time, he felt safe enough to feel like this. A feeling he'd never experienced before. 

"Why don't you give it a try? If you want to. You don't have to... but well, if you're curious like I was..." He shrugged his shoulders. "Then it's all yours."

Hesitantly he looked at Juan's face. He'd closed his eyes as if he wasn't expecting any compensation. Should he do it? Nobody would ever find out, this would stay between them. 

He swallowed, his lips felt dry. He rolled over, so Juan was underneath him. Juan's opened his eyes and smiled — a dreamy smile. Emilio realized how handsome his friend was. He caressed his face, then, he leaned into him and kissed him. Slowly, as if it really meant something. It was a long kiss; Juan's nails were lightly scratching his back. Usually, he wasn't a big fan of foreplay, but this time he felt the urge to touch every piece of skin with his lips. Juan sighed softly while Emilio kissed his way down. The nervousness returned when he neared his friend's briefs. What if he liked it? Would it mean that he was gay? No — that made no fucking sense. He'd never felt attracted to a guy. 

He thought of how much he enjoyed the feel of Juan's skin underneath his lips. How he had fantasized about Mateo. Suddenly he felt sick. He didn't want to continue this, but he neither wanted to explain why he no longer wanted this. Maybe he should just get over with it. It was probably disgusting, and then all those crazy thoughts would go away. There was not a chance in hell that he was gay. 

His fingers curled around the elastic of Juan's briefs and he pulled the piece of clothing down. Hesitantly he stretched out his fingers and started to stroke his friend. Skittishly he glanced at Juan, who'd closed his eyes. He would probably fall asleep if he kept dawdling. Emilio tried to banish all his doubts. Resolutely, he started to jerk his friend off. As Juan hummed in approval, he felt encouraged enough to go further. He started to kiss the soft skin, which felt pleasantly warm. Something contracted in his stomach and he was getting hard again. He hated himself for it, he didn't want to like this. 

_Just do it. The soon it's over, the better. Switch off your mind and go for it._

And so, he did.

Every time he managed to make Juan moan harder, there was something fluttering in his stomach. He wanted to give him the same mind-blowing orgasm as he'd received from his friend, he wanted to be better than Dana. He tried to experiment a little more with his tongue. Juan sat up, weaving his fingers through Emilio's hair while guiding him. Emilio tried to take him as far as he could without gagging. 

"Mmm," Juan muttered. "We got ourselves a natural here."

Again, it felt like Mateo was talking to him, instead of his little brother. Emilio swallowed. He wasn't sure if he should take this as a compliment or not; it wasn't exactly his ambition to become a talented cocksucker. He however felt relieved that Juan liked it — after all, that was why he was doing this. 

_And because you were curious about how dick tasted, you disgusting fag._

Even though the words made his shoulders cramp up, he continued stubbornly until his friend came — but without calling out his name. 

The disappointment was unexpected. He got up, Juan's taste lingering in his mouth. He didn't know what to feel, it felt like his body was betraying him since he was rock hard. Lying down on the bed again, he turned his back towards Juan. Tears were stinging in his eyes. He didn't understand himself anymore, he didn't understand his body. 

Juan didn't abandon him now his climax was over; he snuggled up to Emilio and wrapped an arm around him. "You okay?" he whispered, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

"I dunno," he answered honestly. It felt too good to lie here like this and it frightened him. "I feel so much conflict. What if I've fallen in love with you now? Fuck man — I don't want that."

A tear rolled down his cheek; he was terrified that something had changed for good now. Juan was his best friend, the most important person in his life. He didn't want to lose him because of this stupid experiment that had a completely different outcome than he'd expected.

"I don't think I'm the one you're in love with, E." He pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades. "It was my brother's name that you moaned when you came, not mine."

* * *

Juan's words kept echoing through the room. 

Emilio had no idea what to answer. Juan seemed to sense it; in the end, he only hugged him and fell asleep like that. After a while, Emilio had freed himself from his arms. Now, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. He'd put his briefs back on again, but covering his nakedness didn't stop the image of his best friend's blow skills. 

Was it true? Was he in love with Juan's brother? Just like that, out of the blue? While he hadn't seen his friend in two weeks? Or had these feelings always been there, but had he never recognized them as such? As a teenager he'd always looked up to Mateo; he had been like an older brother. Mateo had always treated him like that too; almost as if Juan and Emilio were twins. When had it changed? He couldn't call up a specific moment. Yeah — he missed his friend. He didn't have a lot of friends; actually only the two brothers. The past 30 months he'd regularly visited his friend in prison — more regularly than Juan himself — and he'd looked forward to the moment that they could hang out in a different place than the visitor's area of a prison. 

That moment was close now; Mateo would gain his freedom in a few weeks. Now he wished he would stay inside longer. After what happened tonight, he didn't dare to look Mateo in the eye again. His whole life he had this feeling that Mateo was able to read him with one look; he was scared of his response when he caught such a disgusting fantasy. He probably never wanted to see him again. Mateo was the straightest guy he could think of. 

Bile crept into his throat. He jumped up and sprinted to the bathroom, leaning his hands on the washbasin. His face was glowing like he was having a fever. He couldn't remember the last time he'd cried, but right now he was very close to tears. He was disgusted with himself, with his fantasies, with how his body had responded to Juan, to _a guy._ He didn't want it — he didn't fucking want it and there was nothing he could do about it. 

For a long time, he stared at the washbasin. The nausea didn't go away, but he couldn't throw up either. Turning on the water, he splashed it in his face. Instead of turning back to Juan's room, he laid down on the couch and rolled on his side. He couldn't sleep; he kept staring forward and with all his might he tried to think of something else than Juan or Mateo. 


End file.
